


Chasing the Dawn

by SuperbOwl



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Blood and Violence, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route Spoilers, Humor, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-01-26 06:27:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 108,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21369643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperbOwl/pseuds/SuperbOwl
Summary: It has been nearly five years since Fódlan was engulfed in war. On the day of the millennium festival the students of the Golden Deer House keep their promise and reunite for the occasion along with their professor who had disappeared during the Battle of Garrag Mach. On that momentous day they pledge to thrust themselves into the conflict in the hopes of bringing peace back to the war-weary land and secure a better future for all.Lysithea decides to fight alongside her classmates, not only to support the friends that she had grown close to, but to also free her House from the Empire's shadow. Her ultimate goal is to give her parents the peace they deserve, firmly believing she will not see the future she fights for. But Byleth has one more valuable lesson to teach her.
Relationships: Golden Deer Students & My Unit | Byleth, My Unit | Byleth & Claude von Riegan, My Unit | Byleth & Lysithea von Ordelia, My Unit | Byleth/Lysithea von Ordelia
Comments: 55
Kudos: 89





	1. A Promise to Keep

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there! I've been meaning to write up a series about my favorite house for a while now, and it was only recently that I decided to put fingers to keys and actually write it out. The Golden Deer was my first House and frankly out of all of the other routes I had the most fun with them. In particular I especially liked Lysithea, though not at first. Her attitude toward the other Deer turned me off for a time, until I got to her A support with Byleth. Her behavior, her laser-focus on her studies, it all made sense at that point. She matures significantly from the insecure and guarded girl she was pre-timeskip into someone who is more willing to accept help from others (still defensive about her age, but *shrug*). Aside from Marianne, whom I also love to bits, she became my favorite girl in 3H. But ultimately Bylithea is my favorite pairing because Byleth helps to remove her Crests, and she can enjoy a life she never thought she'd have with the man who saved her and (at least in my mind) crushed on during the pre-timeskip.  
So I find it sad that there is a serious lack of Bylithea fanfics available, and for the ones that are they're mostly one-shots. All well and good mind you, but I feel like there should be more. As such I wanted to do more-or-less a retelling of Verdant Wind that will focus on both the war aspect and developing their relationship, swapping between both their PoV's with it being primarily from Byleth's. Hope you enjoy!

The grass on the hill she stood on swayed in the breeze with her long, white hair flowing along with it. The sky was painted in magnificent oranges and yellows as the sun sat halfway down the horizon. The light of the setting sun seem to catch on Garreg Mach Monastery's exterior as the tan bricks that made up its walls reflected the beauty being shone on it. Lysithea could almost call it picturesque, were it not for the terrible sounds of battle taking place around her.

“Lysithea!” a female voice called out. “On your left!” Lysithea turned to face her attacker charging at her with a lance, angled at her chest and preparing to skewer her. Stretching out her hand she felt the cold sensation of dark magic tingle at her fingers as she conjured a black orb before her and flung it at her attacker with a swing of her hand. The soldier tried to roll out of the way, which was what she expected as her other hand fired another miasma spell that she had been channeling behind her back, hitting the soldier directly in the head. His body spasmed only once from the impact. Lysithea quietly sighed to herself. Another young life cut too short. She knew that all too well.

“Thank you Marianne!” Lysithea responded. She wondered how it had ever come to this. It was only a few weeks ago that she and the other students were looking forward to their upcoming graduation ceremony. She had devoted herself to her studies all throughout the school year and it was all about to pay off. The year had its crests and troughs, from their victory at the Battle of the Eagle and Lion, to the death of Jeralt, but their graduation ceremony would have approached all the same. Once that had come she would have had everything she needed in order to help her father govern and defend their territory while she began laying the groundwork for her family's dissolution. Then she would be able to retire along with them and quietly live out what remained of her life in peace, far and away from anything that would trouble either her or her parents again.

But then this happened. Edelgard had revealed herself as the Flame Emperor and declared war on the Church of Seiros, stunning everyone all across Fódlan. All of her plans had to be put on hold while she and the other students were requested to utilize everything they had learned during their year at the Officers Academy and defend Garreg Mach from the Adrestian Empire's forces. While war was certainly one subject that all of her learning had prepared her for, she hoped that it would never come to that, but the possibility remained nonetheless. Now that possibility became reality as the grounds of the monastery had erupted in a cacophony of blades clashing, the cries of frightened students while they were being evacuated, and the groans of soldiers, students, and knights alike as they died on the hills. She turned her gaze toward the monastery. What was once a relatively exciting year had become something of a nightmare. The world, it seemed, had gone quite mad.

She felt a swift breeze behind her head as an arrow whispered by. She heard the grunted shout of another soldier and turned to see that it had punctured him in the center of his chest. The soldier had been close, far too close for comfort and she chided herself for getting distracted by her own thoughts. Flicking her head the opposite direction, she saw that Claude had been the one to stop the soldier dead in his tracks.

“Stopping to admire the scenery, Lysithea?” he teased as he pulled another arrow from his quiver and giving it a twirl with that trademark sly smile of his.

“I can handle myself perfectly fine, Claude!” she answered, scowling. “I'm not some helpless child!” She turned back around to focus her attention on the opposing forces while silently thanking Claude for the assistance, unwilling to admit that she had been distracted in the middle of a battle. She didn't allow herself to make mistakes. There was no time for it.

Around her the other Golden Deer were in the middle of fights of their own. Lorenz, Raphael, Hilda, and Leonie were engaged more toward the front of their group, with Flayn providing healing magic should enemy soldiers manage to get hits in. She, Ignatz, Claude, and Marianne, were a few paces back as they lent their long-range support. Along with being on the high ground, their formation was working rather well for them. The only member of their group missing was their dear professor, but he had been instructed to help with the evacuation. He promised to rejoin them as soon as he was able, and she was looking forward to that moment with anticipation. Having him around was a great comfort to her, and with his skill and leadership, along with the Sword of the Creator, they might have a chance of pushing the invading army back. A foolish thought, if she was honest, to put so much of her faith in one individual, but time and again he had always come through for them.

Though a little distance away from them, the other two Houses were also engaged with the Empire's troops. What surprised Lysithea was that the rest of the Black Eagle House was fighting against their own nation's troops. She would have figured that they would have followed Edelgard back to the Empire and help in leading the charge against the Church, but them being here now was proof enough for her that they were as much in the dark about Edelgard's plans as everyone else was. What worried her was what would happen to them after the battle was over. Would they join with Edelgard? Or would they want to distance themselves as much as they could from her? There was simply no telling.

She cast another miasma toward a pair of soldiers coming straight at Lorenz. It managed to hit one of them square in the chest and she crumpled to the ground, causing her companion to momentarily look at the space that her comrade once occupied. Lorenz didn't give him the chance to focus and thrust his lance through his abdomen. The soldier fell to the ground, dropping his weapon and clutching at the open wound. Lorenz then plunged his lance directly into the man's chest, killing him instantly as the weapon pierced his heart.

“A noble does not let a man suffer an agonizing death...” he stated solemnly.

The battle had been going well for them so far as many of the troops they were against lay scattered around the hill. Lysithea knew the battle was far from over however. Garreg Mach Monastery was the object that stood for everything Edelgard was against, and she would not send a small force of soldiers to try and take it. The Knights of Seiros were an elite fighting force of their own, capable enough to handle a small army if need be, yet even they along with they students who chose to fight back couldn't handle the military might that could be mustered by an entire nation.

As Lysithea looked out at the outer battlements that lay just beyond the town, she wished for once that she wasn't right. Hundreds of soldiers were marching in formation and steadily pouring in through the entryway and through the center of the town. Her eyes widened and her heart began to sink. It was the most amount of people Lysithea had ever seen at one time. The others saw them too and needless to say that the collective mood had darkened as they rallied around Claude.

“That's... a lot of soldiers...” said Leonie, a hint of dread laced in her voice.

“Edelgard is not fooling around, is she?” Hilda added with worry.

“I guess what we were facing just now was only a token strike force,” Claude deduced. “She wanted to soften us up before coming in with her main force and finishing the job.”

“How are we supposed to win against so many?” asked Ignatz, his bow arm slumping to the side.

“Come on, Ignatz,” said Raphael, clapping his friend on the back, causing the frail boy to jolt forward a step. “We got this! We've always fought and won battles before!”

“Yes, but not against something like this! Not against a whole army!”

“This is what we've trained for throughout the year, Ignatz!” reminded Lysithea incredulously. “Are you going to tell us that even after all that time you still aren't prepared for this?”

“O-of course I am! It's just... scary that's all...”

“As long as we do everything Professor Byleth taught us,” Leonie assured, “We'll make it out of this just fine.”

“I hope you're right Leonie...” Ignatz still didn't sound quite convinced about their chances.

“Speaking of Teach, has anyone seen him?” asked Claude.

“He may still be evacuating students as we speak,” said Lorenz, “Although having him here would be preferable. We could certainly use his guidance and moral support. As it stands he is not, and we must press on without him until he rejoins us.”

“We need him now more than ever,” said Claude, sighing. He stared back out at the approaching army. “I don't like our odds. Having Teach here would be an immense help, but I don't know if he can stop an army, even with the Sword of the Creator.”

“We must do everything in our power to defend our position until Professor Byleth returns to us,” Flayn encouraged. “We must not let Garreg Mach fall to Edelgard and the Empire.”

“Flayn is right,” agreed Lysithea. “We cannot give up now just because of a little fear. Professor Byleth taught us that hesitation on the battlefield kills.”

“Too true,” said Claude. “And I don't plan on dying here. Let's join up with the other Houses and-” Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a booming roar that echoed all around them. They turned in the direction of the source and saw that a huge white dragon had appeared in the sky and was fast approaching the incoming army.

“What is that?!” said Hilda, voicing everyone's thoughts. “Where did it come from?!”

“Was it sent by the Goddess?” Marianne wondered aloud. As Lysithea stood still and stared slack-jawed at the creature, she heard Claude whisper his disbelief at it rather than surprise and wondered if he knew more about it than they did.

The soldiers below saw it too and as soon as it descended down to greet them the closest to it all spun around and ran in a panic, wanting to get as far away from this strange creature as possible. It landed amongst those who could not get away fast enough, crushing them beneath its forelegs. The beast craned its neck and let out a roar of challenge and Lysithea noted that it sounded almost feminine. With its mouth agape, a red ball of light appeared in front of its maw and quickly grew in size before being fired in a concentrated beam at the soldiers and making a sweeping motion with its attack. Some of the soldiers that were fleeing were not lucky enough to avoid the blast and were vaporized the moment the beam passed through them. The attack had the unfortunate side effect of leveling some of the buildings in the town below and others to collapse in on themselves. It mattered little as the town had already long since been evacuated before the Empire arrived.

“_Maybe the tides are turning after all_,” she thought as a brief smile appeared on her face. Those hopes were quickly dashed when a pack of demonic beasts came galloping past the soldiers, adorned with golden masks that covered the entirety of their faces. The beast stood upright as two of them launched themselves at it, but it was easily able to swipe them away with its forelegs. The attack gave the remaining four demonic beasts the opportunity to lunge at the opening it left, grappling on to the beast at different angles and binding its movements, forcing it into the wall that encompassed the town. The force of the impact weakened its integrity enough to the point that large chunks rained down on them. None of the beasts ceased their hold on the dragon as it roared again trying to break free before it was crushed. The Golden Deer tensed up, silently pleading for the creature to free itself before it was killed.

Suddenly a narrow, orange beam extended far back from where the struggle was taking place and punctured the mask of the demonic beast that was clinging to one of the dragon's arms. The mask shattered upon impact and sent the beast flying through the wall and into the valley behind it, never to return. The nine of them gasped at the attack, and as the orange line retracted back to its source they all turned their heads to where the savior was. They knew exactly what that orange beam was, and specifically, who was wielding it.

“Professor Byleth!” a few of them shouted. Byleth's attack on the demonic beast gave the white beast enough of an opening to tear its captors off of it before the rubble collapsed on the rest of them. It managed to take to the air once more just as the rubble crushed its attackers.

“Look! Over there!” said Leonie, briefly grabbing their attention. She was pointing to a group of soldiers that were wearing black armor along with the red helmets that the other Empire soldiers were wearing. They were standing a short distance behind where Byleth was. “Aren't those the same kind of soldiers we saw at Remire Village?”

“They appear to be,” Lorenz agreed, contempt laced in his voice. “And just who is that there with them?” Lysithea could see who he was referring to. At their front was a man in jet black armor with a red and black cape secured to his shoulders by ornate pauldrons. What caught her eye however was the white hair that was similar to Solon's. She clenched her fists at the sight of him.

“Why are they all looking at the professor?” Marianne asked.

“We have to get rid of them,” declared Lysithea. “Whatever their reasons for being here are can not be good.”

“Agreed.” said Claude. “And I don't like the way their eyeing Teach. Come on everyone, let's show them they're not welcome here.” As they began running toward the mysterious man and his soldiers, the white beast had landing in front of Byleth and stood before him on its hind legs, gazing down at the man who helped it.

“Why did you come?” it asked him, its voice coming out in a bellow. Lysithea was amazed that it could talk, and it confirmed what she had originally thought of what gender it was. The beast looked up and noticed the mysterious man and his soldiers, causing Byleth to swivel in place to see what she was looking at. The man brought his hands in front of him and charged an orb of dark magic between them.

“He's about to attack the professor!” cried Ignatz.

“Professor Byleth! Get out of there!” shouted Raphael. It was to no avail; they were too far away for him to hear them. They sprinted toward the soldiers with weapons drawn, desperately trying to get in range of them, but it was too late. The mystery man launched the dark orb at Byleth and it hit him dead center. Rather than dissipating, it carried Byleth past the hole he made in the wall with the demonic beast earlier before finally giving out at the cliff's edge. The white beast tried to help but the two demonic beasts it had knocked away earlier had managed to recover and grabbed ahold of her tail. The ground beneath Byleth's feet crumbled before him, and panic seized Lysithea's heart as she saw the terrible scene unfold. The rest of them skidded to a halt as they saw what she did, terror etching itself into their faces. The ground below their professor gave way and he fell out of sight into the valley below. As the beast roared in defiance, the Golden Deer let out a unified and anguished scream.

“Professor!!”

* * *

“Lady Lysithea?” said an elderly male voice, snapping Lysithea out of her reverie and back to reality. “Are you all right milady?” The source of the voice was Reginald, one of the few remaining servants that still served House Ordelia. He was a man approaching his fifties but barely showed any outward signs of his age save for the gray crop of hair on his head and doorknocker beard. He was a well-built man though not to the same size as Raphael was, which had the benefit of his clothes fitting him better and not stretching at the seams. He wore a black tuxedo with a white, buttoned undershirt overlaid by a black vest. His black slacks were held in place by a brown leather belt connected by a golden buckle that had an indented pegasus on it. His white, silk gloves were spotless, and his chocolate shoes were polished to a shine. He stood a few feet away from Lysithea, awaiting her response.

The pair of them were in her house's den, one of the larger rooms in the small mansion. Shelves were aligned and stretched out from one end of the room to the other on the adjacent walls of the entryway. They nearly reached to the ceiling and were stocked with all manner of books and tomes of varying subjects, all of which were acquired over the years since House Ordelia's establishment. Lysithea was looking out the window opposite the entryway that similarly stretched nearly from the top to the bottom of the room with its curtains drawn to allow for the nearly full moon's light to shine through. There were two leather chairs that surrounded a circular wooden table in the center of the den with flickering candles on it that provided the only other illumination in the otherwise dimly lit room.

Lysithea had been gazing at the clear night sky. It was early in the morning. Very early, as it was only a few hours since the moon had reached its apex before making its slow descent toward the western horizon. She had to be up this early for what she planned to do soon, and she was waiting for breakfast to be ready before she enacted that plan.

“I'm perfectly fine, Reginald,” she replied. She had been sitting in one of the chairs and quickly realized she was slumping. She hurriedly corrected herself before continuing. “I was just lost in thought is all.”

Reginald bowed slightly to acknowledge her response. “Tea will be ready shortly. I went for the honeyed-fruit blend this morning to complement the slices of chocolate cake I prepared yesterday evening for your journey.”

“Thank you, Reginald. I'm looking forward to it.” It took a lot of restraint on her part to not lick her lips at just the thought of the sugary goodness that awaited her. Reginald bowed again before making his way out and back to the kitchen. Alone once again Lysithea looked up toward the moon, partially obstructed by trees and similarly looking down at her. She rested her chin on one hand, a frown making its way on her face as she went back to her ruminations.

The Battle of Garreg Mach had resulted in a defeat that day. After their professor was sent hurtling down into the abyss morale among herself and her classmates plummeted equally as much. Claude assumed command of their group and, sensing the inevitable defeat upon observing the flood of Adrestian soldiers and the loss of their professor, ordered them to flee. The white dragon, in a fit of rage after witnessing their professor's demise, threw off her captors and renewed her attacks on the encroaching army and in the chaos the nine of them slipped away, with Flayn going off to rejoin her brother despite some of their protests. Claude led the remaining eight back in the direction of the monastery and guided them through a passage he had no doubt discovered on the many occasions that he sneaked around the monastery's grounds and brought them out to safety, far and away from the ongoing battle. As he had expected the situation at the monastery only deteriorated and the chaos it was engulfed in spread throughout the rest of Fódlan.

It had been fives years since then and in that time the Empire had made great strides in its conquest to unite Fódlan. The Knights of Seiros had been soundly defeated and Rhea had vanished during the battle. Without its central authority, the Church of Seiros had all but disbanded with the remaining knights scouring the lands outside the Empire for any sign of the missing archbishop. Following the Church, their primary foe became the Kingdom of Fareghus. Many of the the Kingdom's southern Houses sided with the Empire rather than risk invasion. Those that did resist the Empire put up a valiant effort, but when Cornelia assumed the role of regent after her predecessor was mysteriously found dead, she welcomed Adrestian occupation and had Dimitri executed for his supposed involvement in the prior regent's death. With the royal bloodline ended, the Kingdom was now on its last legs with Houses Fraldarius and Gautier providing a majority of the continued resistance. Though they showed no signs of turning the tides, the two major Kingdom Houses had stalemated the Empire in the north. As for the Alliance, the Empire has yet to invade though not without reason. Houses Gloucester, Goneril, and even her own Ordelia were forced to support the Empire, acting as a buffer to prevent the Empire from invading the Alliance as a whole and to maintain the nation's neutrality.

Lysithea clenched her teeth. She hated the circumstance of her House's situation. It was all too much of a reminder of how they came to be controlled several years ago and how it led to her family's current predicament. Her family's influence and wealth had declined considerably during that prior occupation. There were once other minor lords that were able to help govern the territory, but one after another they were driven into poverty until only the main House remained. Even now their authority was stretched thin, and though she had tried to do as much as she could alongside the Count and Countess, the signs of stress on her parents was ever-growing. So much so that only recently was she and her parents beginning to lay the groundwork for their dissolution, but they are unable to begin the process due to the war. If they were to dissolve now it would provide just enough of an opening for the Empire to invade unopposed, utilizing the bridges at the southern border of their territory to bring their army across. It was always her goal to bring her parents peace, but the war stalled her efforts. Once again the Empire was stifling House Ordelia and she and her parents were suffering for it.

It was with all this in mind that what she had planned to do shortly gave her some measure of joy and relief to get away from it all, at least for a time. Today was the day of the millennium festival, or at least it would be if the Church of Seiros still functioned. Irregardless of current events she had made a promise five years ago with her classmates from the Golden Deer House to gather together for a reunion. While there was no chance of a proper celebration to mark this special day, she was eager to see her friends again after five years of hearing next to nothing from them, each one of them having to deal with their own issues at home. She only knew of what Claude was up to based on word from her father. He was the one responsible for maintaining the infighting amongst the Great Houses to keep the Empire at bay, but she wondered how much longer that would last.

More importantly however, it also provided the greatest chance to see her professor again. During the battle he had disappeared into a valley and no one has seen or heard from him since. There was no proof that he yet lived, but she and the other Golden Deer held on to the belief that he was still alive. She longed to see her professor again. He had become an important figure in her life ever since becoming her instructor. Though he offered little in the ways of improving her magical ability, he was able to point out her flaws in stance to improve the flow of her spells and becoming more potent as a result. She had a grasp of battlefield tactics before enrolling, but not to the same level as him as he had years of mercenary experience and a renowned father to enhance his knowledge on the subject. They would sometimes discuss tactics together and they were able to suggest ideas to one another to improve their expertise on the subject. He would always make time to spar with her so that she could demonstrate how far along she was coming in her training. She would even on occasion have tea together with him to simply strike up conversation, though it was often her being the one to speak. She had underestimated him initially, but over time she developed a deep respect for him.

Yet... that respect evolved into something more for her. She discovered before the Ethereal Moon of 1180 that that respect had turned into affection. It seemed ridiculous at first to her. She understood how cliché it was for a student to develop a crush on her teacher, but she couldn't help herself. He was the only one during the school year that praised how her skill at magic and tactics were from her hard work and dedication to her studies rather than the notion that her Crests were responsible. Furthermore he also treated her as how she preferred to be treated, never taking her age or height into account when addressing her. He even gave her a stuffed bear that, while she had outwardly scoffed at it, in truth she cherished it more than any other gift she had been given by him or anyone else, making it all the more painful when she was forced to leave it behind at the monastery. He had treated her so well that a part of her wished she could have been more than just his student, and more than just his friend. It certainly didn't hurt her opinion of him that he was quite handsome to go along with his kindness.

But those feelings she kept to herself. She attended the Officer's Academy to hone her skills and further keen her already impressive intellect and not to engage in romantic dalliances. Even if she did want to tell him how she felt about him, and even if he did feel the same way she did, she knew it wouldn't last. In almost five years time she would be dead and be forced to leave him behind. She didn't want him to suffer the same kind of grief and helplessness that her parents had to endure knowing there was nothing he could do to change her fate. So she kept her feelings buried. It was better for everyone.

She sighed dejectedly and silently cursed at her Crests. What she wouldn't give to be rid of them. A childhood destroyed, her family a shadow of its former self, and all hope for a happy future quashed. All because of her Crests and those responsible for implanting them in her. She wanted to cry, but her tears had dried up. All that remained was resignation.

She heard the sound of approaching footsteps and within moments Reginald had returned, holding a silver platter in his hands with a few slices of the chocolate cake and the tea he informed her of. She could smell the heady aroma of the honeyed-fruit blend tea from where she sat.

“Here we are, milady,” said Reginald. Bringing herself out of her brief despair, Lysithea moved the candle aside before he rested the platter on the table. There were two porcelain cups with a matching teapot that had a trail of steam rising from its spout. A few cloths were neatly folded and stacked next to the slices of cake. Reginald took the cup closest to Lysithea and poured her tea before moving on to his own.

“Thank you, Reginald.” she said as she took the cup from him and set it back down. As he poured his own she took a cloth and wrapped it around a slice of cake and brought it to her mouth. She hummed in delight as she devoured it, the fluffy texture mixing with the creamy yet slightly bittersweet chocolate coating was every bit as soft and sweet as she liked it. Sweet food and drink were the most comfort she could take and were at least enough to have her forget her troubles for a while.

“Is it to your liking, milady?” he asked, chuckling a little.

“You never cease to amaze me, Reginald!” she replied happily after swallowing. Reginald was the primary chef among the remaining servants in the household, but his real talent was in baking. Lysithea could clearly recall the first time she tried his delicacies, and so enamored was she by how perfect they tasted that she practically begged him to teach her how to make sugary treats of her own. He had complied with eagerness, as it was a way for him to cope with the tragedy that befell the family he served, especially with what happened to her.

Reginald was her oldest caretaker and had served the household ever since she was little. When her parents were busy with political matters, it was he who entertained the young heiress by showing her tricks or pretending to be her horse and having her ride him around in her room. He also functioned as a sort of bodyguard for her as well, and she was often there to watch him train with his sword where she stared at him in awe and cheered for him when he finished. He was in a way an uncle of sorts to her with how much time they had spent together.

Which made it all the more painful for him when the Empire occupied their household. As much as it angered him for the Empire to punish House Ordelia for being dragged into a revolt that occurred in House Hrym's territory, all he could do was keep his head down and not make the situation any worse for the Ordelia family. Then came the time when strange mages arrived and performed their experiments on her and all the other Ordelia children. Much like her parents, Reginald could do nothing but watch in horror as the young mistress he served was treated as a prisoner and test subject in her own household. Then upon learning of her shortened life expectancy his heart finally broke. Though she never saw him do it, she could recall hearing him cry on occasion after tucking her into bed. She wanted to cry with him, but even by that time her tears had dried. There was only resignation.

Since that time he had become much more reserved than he once was and fiercely more protective of her. Before she had left for the Officer's Academy, not a day went by when he wasn't within earshot of his charge. His hair had turned gray earlier than normal for a man, and he didn't smile nearly as much as he used to. The only time he did so was when her lessons on baking began and when they did so together as she grew more skilled in the art. It was only in recent years that his good cheer returned when she wrote back to her parents about her time at the Academy and the professor that had been assigned to her class. It gave him some measure of comfort that she was at least enjoying herself, yet the thought still lingered in his mind that her time was coming soon and all he could do now was try to pretend that it wasn't.

“I am glad my confections can still bring a smile to your face, milady,” said Reginald as he sat himself on the other side of the table. He lightly blew into his tea before carefully sipping at it.

“I would be quite shocked if they were to somehow taste worse over the years.” She sipped at her own tea and could detect that there were hints of apple blended together with this batch.

Reginald hummed. “A master cannot be a master if he never maintains his skills. I cannot allow them to dull else I risk never seeing that smile of yours.” He took a cloth and slice of his own and went to savor his own delicacy. They sat that way for a little while in silence, sipping their tea and filling their stomachs with cake. As much as Lysithea was unsettled by sitting around in the relative dark with only the sounds of their tea meeting their lips her mind was far too occupied with what would happen in the upcoming hours. Just what were she and the others to do at the Monastery? Would the students from the other Houses be there too? Would the professor, by some miracle, be there to greet them? She found herself adjusting herself in her seat as she thought of the possibilities, anxious for answers.

“If I may speak my mind milady...” Reginald eventually interrupted.

Lysithea turned to him with raised eyebrows. “Of course, Reginald. You know you don't have to ask.”

“Do you think it wise to be traveling to Garreg Mach Monastery now, with the war still going on? To do so would mean crossing through Count Gloucester's territory, and he is certain to have patrols about his lands on the the lookout for spies or scouts.”

Lysithea set her cup back on the table. “You sound just like mother and father. I'm not worried about the Count's men at all. I can handle myself just fine and you know that.” She sighed. “Besides, I made a promise with my friends five years ago to reunite with them for the millennium festival. I know there will not be a festival, but nevertheless I intend on honoring that promise. I haven't seen them for five years and I would very much like to know how they have been doing after all this time.” She clutched at the hem of her dress before leaning over to pour herself another cup.

“It's not just your classmates though is it?” Reginald inquired further, noticing the subtle act. “You dearly wish to see your professor again too, correct?”

Lysithea looked up at her butler aghast and nearly dropped the teapot. “How did you-?”

Reginald stifled a chuckle. “Forgive my impertinence milady, but I am old not blind. When I read your letters you spoke very highly of him, and reminisced about his positive treatment of you. Then when you returned home after the Battle of Garreg Mach you appeared so downtrodden when the subject of your professor came up. If I didn't know any better I would say-”

“Th-that's enough, Reginald!” she yelled, before covering her mouth with her free hand. A streak of pink went across her face from ear to ear at the mention of what he was implying. They sat in silence for a moment to determine if her outburst had awoken anyone else in the household. When there was a lack of audible footsteps, she lowered her hand and finished her pouring.

“Again forgive me milady. I was getting ahead of myself. With how often you spoke of him in your letters I got the impression that he means much to you, does he not?"

Lysithea sighed in defeat. It was obvious Reginald wasn't about to let the subject drop, and he was mostly correct. “Yes, he does, but he means a lot to all of us, not just me. He was the one who helped us to become who we are today. We all came from different backgrounds and he was the one who unified us into a real team. Honestly I don't know how close I would be with the others, or them with me, if it weren't for him. And with how much he helped me with my training and studies... I owe him a lot.”

Reginald frowned. “Yet no one has heard from him ever since he vanished five years ago. It's possible he may not be there when you arrive. He may very well have died that day.”

Lysithea took another sip at her tea. “I don't believe that for a moment. No one ever discovered his body, and he once came back from being trapped in a void. He is no ordinary person, and I'm sure he's still alive.” She turned her head and whispered. “He has to be...”

Reginald again noticed the act but decided to let it drop. He knew his charge well enough to know not to push. “I sincerely hope he is, milady. If he was able to make your time at the Officers Academy a pleasant one, then he is a friend of mine.”

Lysithea turned back and smiled slightly. “I'm glad you feel that way. Hopefully you get to meet him one day.”

“I look forward to it,” he answered earnestly while doing his best not to frown.

“Let's hurry and finish the last of the cake and tea, Reginald. I need to leave before the sun begins to rise.” With that they went back to their breakfast in quiet so that Lysithea could focus on gathering the energy she would need for the journey ahead.

Lysithea understood his concerns about her plans. He shared the exact same sentiment about her leaving as her parents did, but she refused to change her mind on the subject. Though his mention that her professor would not be there on their promised reunion brought back a worry of her own. While she believed with all her heart that Professor Byleth was still alive, she couldn't ignore the possibility that he had in fact died that day and no one had ever found him. Were it to be the case that he didn't appear, it would be a bittersweet reunion for her. She would meet up with the other Golden Deer, perhaps spend the day with them to catch up on how their lives were going, then most likely return home and continue to prepare for her family's dissolution. It would not be a wasted trip altogether, but seeing him there, knowing that he was alive, would be all that remained to make this reunion perfect for her.

After several minutes the two of them had emptied the platter and teapot completely. Reginald stood up and gathered the platter in his hands.

“Thank you for the tea and cake, Reginald,” said Lysithea, “That should be enough to last me for a few hours at least.”

“My pleasure, milady,” he answered, bowing slightly, “Is there anything else you require before you set off on your journey?”

“No, that will suffice. I will worry about what I'm having for lunch later. I just need to get to the monastery first. After that, it will depend on what we plan to do with our time there.” Just then they heard a loud knocking on the door, causing both of them to jolt in place and Reginald nearly dropping the platter onto the rug. They both looked at each other with concern before he set the platter back down on the table.

“Now who in the world could that be at this time of day?” Reginald asked, suspicious. Both of them cautiously exited the den and into the foyer. The largest section of the mansion, the main staircase led up to the various sleeping quarters for the family, though many of them had long since been empty. The rest of the hallways connected to here and led to the kitchen and dining room, the conservatory, and the lounge. They approached the front door opposite the stairs and Reginald slowly brought his hand to the doorknob and opened it as soon as Lysithea had grabbed a coat to cover her bare collar.

“Ugh,” they heard a female voice utter from behind in disgust, “Raphael, did you really have to knock so loud? We don't want to wake up everyone inside!” Lysithea's eyes widened. The voice sounded like Hilda's, and Raphael was with her too! She placed a hand on Reginald's arm and nodded, and the butler carefully opened the door and letting the chill night air billow in and nipping at their faces. Her two friends were facing each other on the porch with Hilda pouting at his lack of tact. She too was draped in coat in a similar vein whereas Raphael didn't seem to mind the cold temperatures of winter though unlike she and Hilda his whole body save for his face was clothed and, as Lysithea noted, not stretching at the seams as before.

“What if Lysithea is still asleep?” Raphael asked unfazed. “I had to be sure she would hear us and-”

“Raphael? Hilda?” said Lysithea with growing excitement. She had expected to make the journey alone, but this was a pleasant surprise. “What are you two doing here?!” Her friends turned to her with a start, but wide smiles appeared on their faces upon seeing her.

“Hey, Lysithea!” Raphael boomed, “How have you been?!” Lysithea frantically shushed at him along with Hilda and Reginald.

“Quiet down, would you?!” she told him in frustration, trying to keep her own voice low, “Everyone inside is still asleep!”

“Sorry! Sorry!” he whispered, “I was just excited to see you is all. It's been five years since we saw each other!”

“I'm excited too, Raphael, but the sun hasn't even risen yet! I don't want my parents to wake up and come down here. It can only lead to an argument that I would rather not start again.”

“What do you mean 'again'? Wait, your parents don't want you to leave?”

“...No. They wanted me to stay here and help govern our territory with my father. Even if it's only for the day they still don't want me to leave while the war is still going on, but ultimately they gave in after I refused to budge on the subject.”

“Oh, my parents and brother were the same way. Especially my brother.” said Hilda, exasperated. She placed her hands on her hips and initiated a mock-deep voice. “'There might be Empire spies lurking about Hilda! They might try to abduct you and hold you hostage to ensure our loyalty!'”

Lysithea couldn't help but smile faintly at her impression. “You did always say that Lord Holst was very overbearing with you.”

“Yeah. I know he's just worried about me, but with the war going on he sounded worse than usual. He wouldn't let the argument drop until he made me promise to bring Freikugel with me.” Lysithea had noticed that the Hero's Relic of House Goneril was strapped to her back. The way the weapon, and some of the other Relics for that matter, twitched at times made her mildly queasy. “And carrying this thing around is such a pain. It's a lot heavier than it looks.”

“I could carry it for you, Hilda!” Raphael offered, “A heavy weapon is no problem for me with these muscles!”

“And under any other circumstances I'd let you Raphael,” answered Hilda, pleased by his offer. “But I haven't forgotten what happened to Miklan five years ago, and I wouldn't want something like that happening to a big sweetheart like you.”

“Miklan?” Reginald asked, puzzled.

“The late firstborn son to House Gautier,” Lysithea informed. “He stole the Lance of Ruin five years ago and was turned into a demonic beast because he didn't bear a Crest.” Lysithea was glad didn't have to explain what a demonic beast was. Ever since the Battle of Garreg Mach the secret of the existence of demonic beasts had long since been exposed. What remained hidden was the nature of their creation.

“Such a thing can happen to a man without a Crest? And I thought they were all supposedly holy artifacts...”

“Oh! I forgot to introduce you Reginald. This is Hilda Valentine Goneril and Raphael Kirsten, friends of mine from the Golden Deer House. Hilda, Raphael, this is Reginald, my personal butler and a longtime friend of mine.”

Reginald smiled and bowed to them. “A pleasure to make your acquaintances.”

“Nice to meet you, Reginald!” Raphael greeted. “You look like you train a whole lot. Just how big are your muscles?”

“I daresay they are not as large as yours, Master Kirsten, but you are correct. I train my body every day as I must be as intimidating and capable as possible to defend my lord and ladies.”

“We should spar sometime! Get to see who's stronger!”

Reginald chuckled. “Should you come visit again I shall oblige, with his lordship's permission of course.” He turned his gaze to Hilda. “And Lady Goneril I must say it is an honor to meet you. It is not every day a member of one of the Great Houses visits the Ordelia household, officially or otherwise.”

“Now that you mention it,” Hilda pondered, “I really should have visited you more often Lysithea. I mean our territories are right next to each other, and it wasn't like I had much to do at home anyway. My father and brother were handling most of our affairs.”

“I don't think it would have been possible anyway,” said Lysithea. “I was helping father with our own territory's affairs, and between that and my training there would not have been much time for a social visit.” She placed a hand on her chin. “Speaking of visits, why did the two of you come here?”

“Well, I was on my way to Garreg Mach for our promised reunion when I ran into Raphael who was doing the same thing.”

“Then I suggested we should come here and meet up with you!” chimed in Raphael, “It would be a lot more fun to go back to Garreg Mach if there were more of us together! Almost like a reunion on its own!”

A smile etched its way on Lysithea. “I quite like the sound of that, and it would be better to travel to Garreg Mach with some company. In fact I was just on my way to go there now. Shall we?”

“You bet! This is gonna be so exciting! I hope there's plenty of food!”

“I wonder how everyone is doing these days,” said Hilda, “Especially Professor Byleth. Oh, I do hope he shows up. This reunion just wouldn't feel right without all of us there.”

“No...” Lysithea muttered to herself, “It wouldn't...” She shut her eyes to refocus. “We should get going. We have a long road ahead of us and we shouldn't waste any time.”

“Right you are, Lysithea. Let's get going!” As the three of them went to leave, Lysithea turned back toward Reginald, hands at his sides, a tentative smile on his face.

“Take care of yourself, milady.” said Reginald. Lysithea nodded and went to go catch up with the others. It had initially been her intention to go to Garreg Mach alone, but the arrival of Raphael and Hilda was certainly a welcoming surprise. It would better their chances of making it there safely, and she had to admit that it was nice to have a little company along the way. She walked and talked with the other two with a smile, happy to see them again, eager to see her other friends, and hopeful that Professor Byleth would be there to greet them. For now she would allow herself to ignore her worries and simply revel in the moment.


	2. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth awakens after the battle, only to discover that he was been absent for nearly five years. He must now make his way to the monastery to fulfill his promise with the Golden Deer. But does anyone remember their promised reunion?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are with chapter two! I know there isn't really a heck of a lot of interaction going on here and it may get boring, but I promise that there will be much more dialogue in the next few chapters and I am looking forward to writing those out. Still this needed to be done to bring the story up to speed with what happens in White Clouds in the Golden Deer path. Enjoy!

_He felt as if he was suspended in air, but he could not muster the strength to move. A void was all he could see, stretching out with no end in sight. No sound to be heard, no point of reference to focus on. He could not even see his own body. There was no heat nor chill, no air of which to speak of, nothing to stimulate his senses. He was simply... there. But where was there? He did not know. It felt familiar somehow. Had he been here before?_

_'You...' A familiar and once-thought gone voice called to him in his mind. 'How long do you intend to sleep?'_

_He was sleeping? It never felt like this before. What had brought him here? He tried to remember, but no images appeared in his mind, but the sliver of a memory crept into his mind. The wind rushing past him... upward. He must have been falling. Something else appeared this time a rare feeling. A feeling he did not like, one he saw in the eyes of others but never felt it himself until that day when the wind ran past._

_'Your body is awake. Your eyes must open now, and you must find the strength to stand upon those legs of yours.'_

_The voice was female and comforting yet still he could not see, nor could he do as told. He could do nothing but float as his body rejected the call to move. She could sense his mind stirring somehow and knew he was listening._

_'Like so much rain, a pool of blood has fallen to the ground... As spears and arrows pierce the earth, it weeps. And even now... it weeps.'_

_What could the voice possibly mean by that? He could only guess that the world he came from was hurting. A flicker of flame ignited in his chest. What was that feeling just now? He pondered before coming to a conclusion. Responsibility. Was he responsible for hurting the world? Was this his punishment? It did not seem that way. The flame was warm and revitalized his body. It was not in pain, but rather, relaxed. His body was starting to come alive and there was no hint of guilt in that flame._

_'In order to survive, they kill. And so, the people of this world are lost in an abyss of suffering. They weep as well.' _

_That flicker came to him again. He was not responsible for what was happening to the world, nor for what that hurt had done to its people. It was a sense of... obligation. A calling. His work was not yet done, and destiny needed him to answer that call._

_'The only one who truly knows the nature of such things is I... Or rather, you.'_

_There was truth to those words. He was born and raised to this. Conflict. It was all he knew. He knew what it brought to others. Suffering, death, desperation. In his work he saw it all, and he had been indifferent to it. Yet this sense of obligation confused him. Conflict was a means for his survival before, so why should he feel responsible now? Did he have the power to dry the tears of the world and its people? If so perhaps it was time for his body to awaken and fulfill that obligation. The voice seemed to think so, but conflict over many years wore away at him. This void was sheltering him and his body yearned for the long rest he had denied himself for all those years._

“_I'm still sleepy...” The world could wait a little longer while he-_

_'Ugh!' the voice groaned in exasperation, 'You are a complete and utter fool! Have you not changed one bit?!' The sudden change in tone startled him. One minute it was calm yet cryptic, now it was insulting him? Familiarity rushed into his mind in an instant._

“_Sothis?!”_

_'Get on your feet, Byleth,' Sothis ordered him. 'Right now! I'll coddle you no more! You are just like a child, always needing me to hold your hand...' Questions flooded his mind as she spoke, yet before he could voice them a blinding light overtook his vision, the flame in his chest died out, and everything went white._

* * *

“Hey, buddy, a-are you alive?”

Byleth's eyes gradually lifted open as reality and sense returned to him. He saw a man in plain looking clothes hovering over him, apprehension in his eyes as he gazed down on him. Judging from his wild chestnut hair and sideburns, along with his clothes, he had to have been a villager from somewhere nearby.

From his limited view he could see that the sun was beginning to rise as its light began to push away the darkness. The sounds of trickling water were close by, gently streaming down a slight incline perhaps a few meters away from where he lay. The cold air nipped at his hands and face, but he felt no chill as the flame in his chest kept him at a comfortable temperature. The grass beneath him felt wet against his back yet strangely the rest of his body seemed dry.

He didn't know how long he had been there, but his body felt refreshed and didn't seem to feel weak at all as if he just decided to rest his eyes. As he went to prop himself up on his hands a wave of vertigo washed over him causing him collapse back onto the ground.

“Hey, easy there!” said the man alarmingly. The villager then offered him his hand. “Here, let me help you up.” Byleth graciously accepted the man's rough hand and with a swift tug from his helper was able to stand on his own two legs again. The sense of vertigo still lingered causing him to wobble for a moment and the man to help steady him.

“Thank you.” Byleth answered, his expression as stony as ever. He flexed his fingers back and forth and filled his lungs with a deep breath to finish off what remained of his dizziness.

Now with a better view of his surroundings he could see there was a scattering of trees on either side of the riverbank. Each one of them were barren to further solidify that winter had come. On his side he could see in the distance a few simple looking buildings which he took to be homes. Behind him loomed the Oghma Mountains that appeared to pierce the sky from where he was standing. Byleth hummed as he tried to determine where he was and how exactly he got here.

“Hey, by the way is that your sword?” the man asked him. Byleth turned to see he was pointing at the unique, bone-colored blade on the ground by the river.

“Yes.” Byleth walked over and grasped the hilt, feeling the familiar grip in his bare hand. The Sword of the Creator glowed orange for a brief instant as it recognized its bearer along with a quick swell from within his chest as the flame flashed in intensity. Byleth took a moment to inspect his blade and saw that it did not appear any worse for wear, the only “damage” being the superficial cracks strewn about it. He sheathed the blade on his hip, careful not to tear into the white half-robe of his enlightened armor before returning to the villager.

“D-did that sword just glow?” the man asked, startled by the display.

“Yes.”

“Wow... that must be a Heroes' Relic then huh? Which means you got a Crest right? A-are you a noble? You look like one.”

“I'm not a noble.” Byleth noticed that the villager was starting to look nervous. It was a behavior that many who did not know him had around him. The blank expression, the near monotony of his voice, it was enough to intimidate the average person he came across. He hoped it wouldn't scare his helper too much. There were plenty of questions swimming in his mind that needed answers. “Where am I?”

“H-huh? Oh, uh, we're in a village at the base of the monastery. I came out here to gather water for my family, but I honestly didn't expect to find someone floating away down the river... Garreg Mach is upstream of here, but that place was abandoned.”

Byleth blinked. “Abandoned? What do you mean?”

The man looked at him quizzically. “Huh? You don't know? The Church of Seiros isn't there anymore. Though there have been some folks still living there in the five years since the battle.”

Byleth's eyes went wide. He had been unconscious for five years? How was that possible? Then the memories of his final moments flashed through his mind. The Adrestrian Empire marching into Garreg Mach's grounds, evacuating the students, Rhea's shocking transformation, demonic beasts, and the man who stopped him from saving his father's life. Then he remembered falling, the cliff face rushing upward as he thought he was plummeting to certain death. Then there was that strange dream, and now he was here. The memories were so clear that they seemed to have only happened yesterday.

“_Five years...” _He wondered what became of everyone in his absence. What happened while he was gone?

“Anyway,” the man continued, “I've heard some thieves have been spotted around those parts these days.”

“What year is this?” Byleth asked, wanting to make sure he heard right.

“Um, are you feeling all right? You didn't hit your head or anything, did you? It's the Ethereal Moon of the year 1185.” The man hung his head. “Today was supposed to be the millennium festival, but who's got time for that with the war going on...”

“The millennium festival...” murmured Byleth as he cupped his chin with a hand. His eyes went wide again. If today was the millennium festival then that meant...

Byleth turned to leave, the flame burning with resolve. He had a promise to keep with his students, and without any other direction to go for now it was the only course of action to take. As soon as he started to walk, his companion was caught by surprise.

“Hey! Slow down, will ya? Where do you think you're going?”

“The monastery,” Byleth answered simply.

“Are you crazy?! I told ya! They say thieves are running amok up there, and there's plenty of other dangers too. I know you got a sword and all, but it's just not worth it! Come on I promise not to call you a coward. Just forget about going anywhere near the monastery.”

Byleth shook his head. “I can't do that.”

“Fine. Just remember that I tried to stop you, got it? It's not on me if you die there.”

“No need to worry about me. Besides, my students are waiting for me.”

The man looked baffled. “Students? You must be crazy. There aren't any kids there anymore!” Byleth ignored the man's protests as he walked away, hearing one final word of exasperation as he did so. No amount of words were going to stop him from finding his students.

As his feet crunched the frost encrusted grass he went about trying to better remember the events that transpired that had brought him here. The last thing he immediately thought of was the man who attacked him, the very same one who killed Jeralt. His sudden appearance caused a new rush of adrenaline to course through his veins as he spotted him, but the man was quicker in his attack and sent Byleth careening toward a cliff edge with a blast of dark magic. That destroyed the earth beneath him and it sent him hurtling toward the valley below, screaming in terror as he thought for sure that it was the end. Judging from the information provided by the villager, the battle did not end favorably after his supposed death.

The battle... he remembered how shocked he was about how it all began. He remembered the startling revelation that Edelgard, someone he had once “died” for, turn out to be the Flame Emperor that was complicit in so many unsavory happenings during his short tenure at the monastery. How their fight in the Holy Tomb after a failed attempt at a revelation by the Goddess led to her declaring war against the Church of Seiros. There was so much worry and confusion amongst the students about the sudden turn of events, and so little time to prepare for Edelgard's army to arrive. Then the battle came and he led his Golden Deer and the Black Eagles who remained behind to fight off the initial strike force, ultimately leading to his confrontation with Edelgard. She lamented his involvement in the conflict, and he didn't have the heart to strike a killing blow to her. It didn't feel right to strike down someone he had come to know well at the monastery, although now he started to wonder if he ever really did know her.

Through his reflections he found a sea of questions swarming his mind. How was the war faring? What became of the Knights of Seiros after the battle? What was the state of the three different nations after five years of war? Who was winning the war? Did the students of the three different houses survive? If so, what became of them? What became of the Black Eagles that stayed behind to fight off their own people? What happened to his Golden Deer?

Perhaps the biggest question of all was how he managed to live after falling to his death. He thought back to just before he woke up, of how he was surrounded by complete darkness and seemed to be floating admist that darkness. He could feel nothing as if his nerves had just entirely shut down, but there must have been enough activity in his mind to keep him alive. Then he heard a girl's voice speaking to him of how the war was causing the land and its people to suffer with no end in sight, and how he needed to do something about it. He felt the gentle flame in his chest enticing him to continue sleeping, but such an act only incited her to force him awake. Her voice, the attitude, it sounded like...

“_Sothis?”_

There was no response. He tried speaking her name again in his mind, but again there was silence. To have heard her voice again after five years was startling, but now that he was awake he couldn't feel her presence lurking within him, only her power. It was like a piece of him had simply vanished only to be replaced with something more yet far too different. He had grown quite accustomed to having a voice in his head, one that was just as in the dark about the happenings at the monastery and the world as he was. The mysteries that introduced themselves during the course of his tenure brought up even more questions, one that both of them wanted answers for. In that regard he was very willing to work with Claude to discover the answers to those mysteries.

The scattering of trees had soon become thicker and he found himself approaching the forest he once trekked along with the house leaders and the knights. Much like the foliage before, each tree and bush had long since lost their greenery and were now only skeletons until spring returned. The road deeper in the forest would lead him straight to Garreg Mach. He was relived that he truly was at the base of the monastery. His stomach grumbled at him from five years of being mistreated and he hoped that there would be something available there to satisfy it. If not surely there would still be game nearby to hunt assuming winter had not forced them into hibernation.

Bringing out the Sword of the Creator he began using it to clear away brush as he thought on those mysteries. Both he and Claude had a vested interest in uncovering the answers to those mysteries, and both were dedicated to finding them. There were far too many of them to either of their liking, and the events that transpired only made them more curious as time went on. The nature of the crest stones and Heroes' Relics was one such mystery. Until the monastery he had never heard of them, and according to everyone they were holy weapons that the Goddess gifted to humans, granting them great power. Yet the holiness of those weapons they both started to call into question after their fight with Miklan at Conand Tower, when the crest stone in the Lance of Ruin turned him into a demonic beast. It did so because he lacked a crest, but why would an artifact the church considered sacred turn a man into something so vile? Rhea put it as that he was simply unworthy to wield it, but neither he nor Claude were sure about the truthfulness of that answer.

Then there was the larger question of the history of Fódlan, specifically Nemesis and his 10 Elites along with Saint Seiros. The story goes that the Goddess granted them the Heroes' Relics to combat evil, but they eventually abused them for their own gain. Saint Seiros, along with saints Cichol, Cethleann, Indech, and Macuil, led the people of Fódlan to put them down and end their tyranny. Which didn't seem to add up. If Nemesis and his Elites each could use the Heroes' Relics, how would they grow corrupt from them if they had the corresponding crests? He once thought the same thing would occur to him, but Rhea had assured him that would not be the case which only helped to bring about the question. Just how much of their legend was true?

Perhaps the biggest mystery, and the most personal, were his origins. He knew so little of how he was born, why he had no heartbeat, and why his father decided to steal him away soon after his birth. He knew next to nothing about his mother when he wished he did. Why was Sothis, the progenitor god, dwelling within him? From reading his father's diary he seemed to suspect that Rhea was involved somehow with all of it. The only thing he did know of his life was that his father raised him into the warrior that he was and that they were always on the move as mercenaries.

Both he and Claude agreed that Rhea was the best source of all of that information. War or not, he needed to find her as soon as he could to obtain the answers they seek. The truth about the Heroes' Relics and crest stones, the history of Fódlan, and the truth about himself.

He came out into a clearing and discovered the road that once led him to his new life as a teacher. Following north and east, he would soon be upon monastery grounds again. Dawn had at last arrived and his vision had brightened some as the night retreated for the time being. While he could not say for sure due to the mountain range, judging from the amount of light he guessed that the sun was only halfway above the horizon. He surmised that he would be able to make it to the monastery just as the full morning sun shone.

The flame dimmed a little as his head spun from his ruminations. Life was so much more simpler when he was just a mercenary. All he ever had to do was swing his blade and fulfill the contracts his father brought to him and their company of mercenaries. Jeralt handled every aspect of their work life, and all Byleth needed to do was follow him.

But he did not once regret the turn his life had taken despite some of the hardships that came with it. In retrospect, he thought, he didn't think he was really living back then, just surviving. They would be hired to take care of some problem, be it bandits or wild animals, they would get paid, spend that money, then move on. Throughout that time he hardly bonded with anyone. Even among the company of other mercenaries he never really considered them friends, and they were too wary of the Ashen Demon and his stoicism. The only person he ever bonded with was his father, and even then Jeralt had kept him in the dark about Byleth's past and his own. He never realized until over five years ago just how alone he was.

That all changed when he arrived at Garreg Mach Monastery. Initially he wasn't sure how to proceed as it was the first time he had to make his own decisions. His father was there if he needed him, but he had his own duties to attend to and they weren't able to see each other nearly as much as before. Byleth didn't know what to do with himself as a teacher, but when it became apparent that he was teaching the students warfare it helped to ease his mind. In addition, he engaged with the students far more often than he ever did with the mercenaries, with them often coming to him for advice or to aid them in their training. Sometimes they would even come to him with troubling worries, and he was there to either provide encouragement or wisdom to overcome their problems. All of it lead to him becoming the most popular professor at the monastery, and in turn it had an impact on him. For the first time in his life he was beginning to feel emotions that were once foreign to him. Joy, sorrow, pride, anger, none of these he had ever experienced before. Teaching the students and watching them grow had given him a sense of purpose and as a result he was starting to feel more human.

Yet none of the students had quite as much of an impact on him as his Golden Deer did. Hailing from all walks of life from nobility to commoners, they made for an odd group of students. Most of them were bewildered that someone so close in age to them would be their new professor. They were disorganized and sloppy in the beginning, some of them needing more discipline and training than others, but he swore that he would turn them into a capable group of fighters that would function like a team just as his father's company did. To do any less would be a failure for himself and a disservice to them. What he didn't expect was how much he would come to care for them. The more time he spent with them the closer the nine of them were becoming. He soon discovered that not only did he want for them to be capable in battle, but he also wanted to see them grow and mature. He no longer saw them as just his students, but as his friends, a fact that ignited the flame in his chest whenever he thought about it. They had come to mean everything to him and there wasn't anything he wouldn't do for them.

Yet it wasn't to say that all memories of his students were happy ones. The flame cooled as he thought back to their first true battles with them. Most of them were still green, and their inexperience on the battlefield was noted when there were occasions that they died right before his eyes. So gripped with horror was he when it happened that he did not think twice about utilizing the power Sothis had given him to turn back the hands of time and correct his errors. Seeing his students come back to life, oblivious to how cruel fate had been to them took its toll on him mentally. Nightmares plagued him of watching them die and holding their lifeless bodies in his arms, taunting him of his failures. Those failures drove him to do better and while it had a positive effect on them, he would always bear those memories of their deaths and resurrections while they remained ignorant. A cost he accepted if it meant they could continue to live.

The forest began to clear entirely and it wasn't much longer before he was graced with the familiar sight of Garreg Mach Monastery off in the distance. Even from his current position he could see the scars of the battle from five years ago. Bits of the battlements had fallen away, holes in the fortifications that he didn't remember seeing. His eyes naturally drew themselves over to the largest hole, the same one he created and was subsequently hurtled through all those years ago. The flame wavered as he lamented the destruction of the once pristine monastery. He could only imagine how much worse it was in the monastery proper.

Picking up his pace it was another half hour before he arrived at the outer walls. The skeletal remains of soldiers and knights alike were still strewn about the hills as he made his way further up toward the monastery. He had never seen such a dismal sight before with so many bodies sprawled around him, all still wearing portions of their armor and left to have their bones bleached. The flame continued to waver in his chest as he moved past their bodies. These were not the bandits he had grown accustomed to being indifferent towards, but rather men and women who had families and friends that would never see them again. He knew it was a result of war, but he never dared to accept it. To do so would be to throw away the budding humanity within him.

Minutes later he finally arrived at the monastery's once bustling city. It now lay in ruins with stores and homes damaged ranging from minor chunks missing from their walls to them half-collapsed or nearly destroyed entirely. The number of bodies had climbed from what there was on the hills, and he even saw the scorched outlines of soldiers at various spots in the streets. They were no doubt all that remained of the ones who couldn't flee from The Immaculate One's wrath. Though the pungent smell of decomposition had long since passed, the air here was stale and uninviting with its deathly silence.

“_The man was right. The monastery really was abandoned...”_

Suddenly two men ran across the street up ahead, dressed in skins and leather boots and pants, chuckling to something as they went by. The villager seemed to also be correct about this place being a haven for thieves, picking apart the bones of the town for anything of value left behind and defiling the resting place of those who gave their lives here. As much as Byleth wanted to cut them down he knew he did not have the strength to do so as his stomach protested such an action. Reuniting with his students was his primary goal for now; everything else could wait until then. Though unused to the ways of stealth he decided that it would be the best course of action to traverse the town and conserve his energy. Though he knew little about sneaking around he had both Claude and Ashe to thank for showing him the basics. Now it was time to see if their lessons would pay off.

Once the two men had passed, Byleth ducked down behind the closest building to his right. Much of it was missing, but there was still enough on the corner for him to hide himself behind. Poking his head out just slightly to check if he was clear, he dashed over to the next one that appeared much the same as the last. This time as he looked ahead he was not as lucky. Two different men appeared to be arguing about the weapon one of them was holding, a curious looking double-headed axe that gave off a blue shimmer across the head. Though the weapon was unknown to him, he recognized it as a sacred weapon of the church from his experience with the Caduceus Staff and the Spear of Assal. A third man came over to them who appeared far more well dressed than the other two and Byleth assumed he was the leader. The third man seemed to scowl at them before taking the axe away, laughing as he did so. The third man walked away leaving the other two to glare at each other before following behind their boss. Byleth made a mental note to recover the axe later; it didn't belong in the hands of thieves.

Darting over to the next building, this one was only missing parts of its roof and afforded better cover. Creeping along its backside he noticed just around the corner was another thief, though he had his back turned to him and was drinking away at a flask. Wasting no time Byleth constricted the man in a chokehold and covered his target's mouth, causing the man to panic and grab at his assailant's arms while making muffled gasps for air. Byleth tightened his grip and held fast until the man passed out in his arms and he dragged him behind the building before making his way over to the next.

As he peeked around the corner he could now see the town square, where many of the thieves were hustled around a campfire to help ward off the cold in-between their rummaging. They appeared to be roasting venison though from his distance but he couldn't quite make it out. It at least confirmed that there was still game around the monastery grounds. He had to gulp down his saliva as the aroma of their breakfast made its way toward him and his stomach rumbled in greed.

“Hey! You!” someone shouted. Byleth whipped his head in the direction of the voice, only to see a thief with weapon drawn mere meters away from him. “Never should have come here! Boys! I found some-!”

The man never got to finish his sentence as the world's color inverted and he was forced to walk back to where he came from at a hurried pace. Then just as quickly as it changed color Byleth's vision returned to normal as he rumbled in his throat, chiding himself for getting distracted. He was glad Claude wasn't here to see his mistake. He doubted his friend would ever let it go.

Having watched the direction the thief came from Byleth prepared himself this time by grabbing a rock at his foot. As soon as the thief appeared around the corner of the adjacent building he flung it behind his head. The thief flicked his head over to the sound of stone hitting brick, giving Byleth the opening he needed to sneak up behind the thief and knock him out in much the same way as the first. Once completed he made his way over to a cluster of buildings further on.

The rest of the way proved to be a much easier sojourn, Byleth having learned his lesson and keeping a watchful eye on any patrolling thieves. Now on the opposite side of the town, he checked one more time to see if there was anyone close by before moving on to the second section of the city higher up. The number of thieves was sparser in this section of the city and he guessed they might have already searched every corner for valuables. He kept close to the eastern wall to utilize the lingering shadows they provided before he finally crossed the drawbridge at the other side of town. He passed underneath the great arch that led to the final staircase and began beginning his ascent to the main gate. Strangely he did not see any thieves perched on any of the steps, and as soon as he reached the top he understood why. The portcullis was lowered and with the opening mechanism on the other side he was locked out.

“_Am I the first one here?” _The flame smoldered as he frowned. _“Or did they forget about the reunion? Or are they...” _He shook his head furiously. He taught his students well and it was unlikely they would have died in his absence.

He stood there as he inspected the portcullis, humming to himself as he tried to develop a way to get past it. As he looked up at the merlons an idea came to mind. Unsheathing the Sword of the Creator, he activated its power, extending the blade into its whip-like form and carefully flung the whip upward at one of them. The whip wrapped around several times before locking itself into place. After giving the string of the whip a tug to ensure it was taut, he slowly scaled his way up the wall, careful to always put a hand on the string. Once at the apex he unwound the whip and pulled it back up to him before using it once more to climb down into the monastery's interior.

The only thing that greeted him was an empty space and quiet. The marketplace that once thrived at the base of the entrance hall was now empty, no trace of the stands that once provided quick access to much needed supplies. Gone were the murmurs of consumers and shopkeepers as they bartered and instead were replaced by nothing but stillness. The only sound that was made was his own gentle breathing as he surveyed the vacated space. He headed inside the battlements and proceeded to raise the gate before beginning his search for any sign of his students.

As he walked toward the stairs of the entrance hall he spotted movement out of the corner of his eye. A rat skittered by at an alarming pace followed closely behind by a cat, a calico that was primarily black with various spots of chestnut brown on her body and white paws and underbelly. She was following at a more brisk pace than the rodent as it stalked its prey. Byleth recognized the feline immediately, his eyes flaring briefly.

“Abigail?” At hearing the familiar word, Abigail turned in his direction and looked at him with her olive eyes. She backed up a couple steps, fur bristling and tail upward at his sudden appearance. A slight smile appeared on Byleth's face as he crouched down and held out a hand for her. She was a little thinner than he remembered, but with no one around to feed her she had to make due with her hunting skills. She didn't move for a moment before cautiously approaching him and sniffing at his hand. When she smelled his familiar scent she rubbed her cheek on his fingers before moving on to his legs, purring profusely as she did so. He stroked her fur as she displayed her affection, the smile not leaving his face as the flame caressed his body. “Good girl.”

Abigail was one of the many cats and dogs that were once abundant at the monastery. She in particular was the most affectionate with him, having been fed at one point after a day of leisurely fishing. Since that time she wasn't too far away from him, always in anticipation of another meal or just wanting attention, and eventually he had come to adopt her. Some of the students were thrilled by her presence and she became such a sensation that Claude once jokingly suggested to change the mascot of their house to her, much to Lorenz's chagrin.

She also provided a means for Byleth to better communicate and bond with Marianne. He knew she was better at speaking with animals than people, and having Abigail around allowed for Marianne to be more comfortable while speaking with him. They became co-caretakers for the feline and slowly he was better able to converse with the quiet, depressed girl which in turn started to have a positive impact on her. Over time he discovered that Marianne was taking more care of Abigail than he was and even began sleeping in her room more often. Combined with the growing bond of he and the other students, he noticed Marianne was slowly becoming more accepting of herself and others, a process that Byleth was happy to be a part of.

Straightening himself out, he proceeded into the entrance hall to begin his search for his students with Abigail following closely behind. His footsteps echoed off the walls as he looked around at the pillars. Many of them were chipped from lances and swords, and the rug beneath his feet was scuffed and tarnished. It was safe to assume that no one had been here ever since the battle took place, the final fact from the villager being confirmed.

Byleth closed his eyes in mourning. Though he was only here for less than a year he considered this place home. Always being on the move with his father and his company never gave any time for a permanent settlement. Since arriving here he discovered that there was more to life than simply fighting for money. He had come to form friendships with both students and staff alike. He wanted to watch and aid students in their growth. He was discovering what it meant be human and he had Garreg Mach Monastery to thank for it. To see it like it is now cooled the flame in his chest.

He moved on to the dining hall and the damage was more noticeable here. In addition to the same sort in the entrance hall, the chairs were tossed about as the tables were angled or flipped on their sides. The bottoms of the banners that adorned the pillars were frayed or torn. The kitchen on the opposite side was barren of any supplies and only the cookware and dishware remained. Still there was no signs of life, but he had to press on despite the cooling temperature of the flame.

Coming outside to look upon the fishing area, part of the parapet had been blast off and a pile of rubble formed just below. The area around the pond appeared to be relatively untouched and the stall with the fishing supplies still stood as he remembered it, complete with its supplies. Assuming there was still fish in the pond he decided that he would take the time later on to catch one and satisfy his belly's continued displeasure. Out of curiosity he approached one of the storage barrels off to the side to check for food, but he was met with disappointment at its lack thereof. The odor emanating from its neighbor was enough to dissuade him from giving it the same treatment.

Deciding to check the dormitories next, he poked his head into the greenhouse along the way only to find that the colorful variety of plants that once graced all visitors had long since perished from lack of care. As he set forth back to his original destination he noted that there were a distinct lack of bodies to be found unlike the city and the rolling hills far below. Had the Church surrendered before the Empire's army made its way inside? If so it only fueled his contempt at the damage wrought to his home.

He climbed up the steps into the second floor of the dorms and let himself see inside the one directly across from him. Ingrid's room showed the signs of someone having gone through it, with books scattered around the floor and shelves while many of the drawers were still open and barren. The next two rooms showed the same signs as hers. Both Hilda and Marianne's rooms were vacant of their occupants, though in the latter's case the door was already open and the small bed at the foot of hers had been used recently. Abigail helped herself inside while he approached the fourth room. As he reached his hand out for the doorknob he hesitated for a moment.

“_Edelgard's room...”_

Pushing the princess, and now emperor's room, open, it was devoid of any belongings save for the wooden furniture that was standard across all rooms. It was obvious to him that Edelgard, or at least someone ordered by her, was here to retrieve her belongings unlike the other students who were forced to leave them behind. Hubert's room next door showed the exact same signs leading Byleth to wonder why Edelgard wouldn't allow the others to retrieve theirs as well. The remaining rooms proved to be just as fruitless as the first ones and Byleth began to wonder with growing sadness if this place was truly a ghost town now. As he went back the way he came he snapped his fingers and Abigail came bounding out of Marianne's room and shot down the stairs. Byleth let out a puff in amusement at the sudden display.

Back outside he then moved on to the dorms on the first floor though now he was starting to suspect it would be pointless. When he entered Lysithea's room he took a little longer than others to inspect it. He had a certain fondness for Lysithea among the other students. She was the most diligent of them all and, though he would never admit it aloud as to not play favorites, was his star pupil. She always scored high marks on her exams and turned in her work a day early each time. He remembered spending time with her when they acquired Thrysus to help her get used to its power just as he had to with the Sword of the Creator, knowing the fatigue they brought to their wielders despite having the appropriate Crests.

He also recalled spending more time teaching her tactics and practicing battle scenarios than some of the other Golden Deer, discovering that she had a better grasp of it than them. He noticed she seem to hold him in high regard for the time they spent together and his treatment of her, and he had to admit he was impressed by her dedication to her work ethic. He purchased a stuffed bear for her as a way to show his gratitude for her hard work. She scoffed at the gift but accepted it anyway, but judging from where it was right next to her pillow he could see she wasn't at all displeased by it.

Still, he found it curious as to why she was such a hard worker. Glad of it as he was, he had noted that she seemed to plunge herself into her work and hardly make time for anything else. He first noticed it as he helped her with her training, watching her push herself to exhaustion, sometimes almost to the point of collapse. If she was working on one topic of her research, when she finished she almost immediately moved on to the next. Behavior like that wasn't healthy, but he was hesitant to broach the subject with her. It was clearly a point of passion for her, but if she kept it up it was going to lead to an early grave.

Going further down the line he finally made it back to his room and it took him by surprise. Unlike the others it looked just as the same as it did before apart from the layer of dust that caked the surface of the furniture. The drawers were closed, his books were all neatly lined together, his bed was made. Were it not for the dust it would be almost as if he hadn't been absent at all. He wondered why his room had been left intact as opposed to the others.

He went over to his desk and pulled out one of the drawers. Stacks of papers were neatly piled on one another, turned in work that he had not yet graded before war broke out, but what he was looking for was the bracelet on top of them. A gift from the Golden Deer on his birthday, it matched the House's banner in every way: golden in color with a brown deer carved into it. The surprise celebration his students had for him was perhaps one of the happiest moments of his time here and as he slipped on the bracelet the flame gently massaged his body once more.

He then lifted the papers up and pulled out the much smaller, silver band from beneath them. He breathed a sigh of relief that this was still here. It was the only keepsake he had of his father, the wedding band the latter had given to his mother. It had lost a little of its luster, but the gems still gave off a decent shine as he twisted the ring in his fingers. Pocketing it, he realized that there was something he needed to do and proceeded back outside, making his way past the reception hall after giving a quick glance to see if anyone was there and noting similar damage just like the dining hall.

As he went down the steps into the small graveyard, he slowed his pace as he approached the headstone furthest from him. He stood in front of the stone and gazed at the inscriptions on it, his lip quivering slightly as he did.

“Hello father...” he said solemnly, “Hello mother...” Staring at their engraved names brought back terrible memories. He had been witness to loss before, what with Ashe having to play a part in his adoptive father's death, and Sylvain with his older brother, but to experience it himself brought a pain he never wanted to feel again. Monica, the plucky girl that he had rescued alongside Flayn, took him completely by surprise and plunged her blade into Jeralt's backside. He tried to save Jeralt, the only person he knew throughout his whole life, even having to use his divine pulse to stop it from happening, but in the end the same man that tried to kill him five years ago prevented him from saving his father's life.

In the days afterward he barely left his room as he mourned the loss of his only family member. The outpouring of support from students and staff helped to ease his grief. Professor's Hanneman and Manuela had offered to take on some of his duties, Lysithea and Mercedes baked him sweets, Leonie shared in his grief with him. Even the reclusive Bernadetta took the time to lay flowers at his father's grave. All of it meant a lot to him and it only served to further reinforce how he felt about his time at the monastery.

He looked down at his empty hands, the flame smoldering. “I have no flowers to give you...” He kneeled down and traced his fingers along the name of his father. He looked over at his mother's name before glancing down in disgrace. Abigail sensed his distress and brushed up against his legs once again. He stroked at her fur more as she did so, comforted by her affection. “I'll be all right, Abigail...”

Wiping away a small tear from the corner of his eye, he pressed on and decided he would head to the cathedral next. To his fortune he could see the portcullis was open, but as he crossed the bridge and climbed the steps into the hall of worship he couldn't believe his eyes. This place had suffered the most amount of damage compared to all the other structures. Pews were scattered and broken, larger chunks of the supporting columns were missing, but the most egregious of all was the large pile of rubble that rested where the altar once was, letting in the light of morning from the hole above. He was not a follower of the Church himself, but even he was shocked at the level of desecration to this once serene place. If Rhea were here to see this he didn't know if she would weep or fly into a rage like she did in the Holy Tomb.

Byleth paused for a moment as her name crossed his mind again. The Knights lost the battle, that much was apparent, but what happened to Rhea? Did she flee from the battle? Was she captured? Killed? He hoped that the latter wasn't the case. There was so much information she was keeping secret from him. If she were to die those secrets would die with her and he would never know his origins, nor the origins of Fódlan. And he if he was honest he had come to see her as something of a mother figure over time despite the rare occasions where she looked at him peculiarly. He resolved to find her, but first he had to make sure his students were safe.

There was one last location before he would return to the reception hall and check the second floor. He walked over to the Goddess Tower and ascended the stairs, still hoping he would find someone, but having not found a single person he was starting to think perhaps they had forgotten about their promise, or worse. He once again shook his head at the thought. He trusted them completely and he didn't think it possible they would forget. Still, with the war going on and with the evidence behind him, he couldn't ignore that possibility.

When he reached the top he saw a lone figure staring off into the horizon, basking in the morning sun's rays with a hand at his hip. He was wearing attire unlike anything he had seen before and thought perhaps it was from a foreign clothier. It was tan and slightly puffy with a large sash for a belt of various greens, yellows, and black. A golden pauldron adorned his left shoulder, and from his vantage he could make out another sash on the opposite with what appeared to be the Alliance emblem emblazoned on it. His chocolate hair was combed back, and he had the makings of a thin beard that didn't reach his chin. He had no idea who this man was and it didn't help that he couldn't see his face.

The man glanced over when he realized he was no longer the only one present. Turning to get a better view, the man widened his eyes and gasped in surprise before a genuine smile appeared on his face and he hummed to himself.

“You overslept, Teach!” said the man, “Pretty rude to keep a fella waiting that long, wouldn't you say?”

Byleth immediately knew who it was now. There was only one person in the world who referred to him as that.

“Claude?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we have it! And Claude makes his first appearance! I always liked Byleth's reunion with him the most because its the only one where he actually smiles in it, happy to see his closest friend after all these years and vice versa.  
Writing out the sequence in the city was difficult because of how inconsistent it is between the game and concept art (really wish there were better maps of the landscape, but I'll go with it). In the end I just decided that I would try to keep it as simple as possible while keeping the concept image in mind. Garreg Mach is huge and defensible so naturally there would be quite a number of people living there for that kind of protection.  
Let me know what you think and look forward to the next chapter!


	3. Reunion at Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth has reunited with Claude, raising his hopes that the other Golden Deer won't be far behind. His friend fills him on the happenings of Fódlan during his absence, and now that Byleth has returned Claude begins to put a grand plan into action. But first they must clear the way for the others to arrive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took a little longer than usual, but here it is! I don't really have any sort of deadline I set for myself when it comes to uploading new chapters as I don't want to give anyone any false hope only to be disappointed when it doesn't appear in that timeframe. I do try to get them out ASAP as this is something I'm eager to do with the criminal lack of Bysithea content available (pray that it one day changes). Anyway enough of that; enjoy!

“In the flesh!” confirmed Claude as he presented himself. He then raised an eyebrow. “What's with that surprised look, my friend? You didn't really think I'd given up on you coming back, did you?”

Byleth was certainly stunned. He didn't recognize the former head of the Golden Deer at first, but quickly realized that after five years his appearance was bound to change. He actually looked quite handsome now, and he still carried that aura of confidence about him. Even with five years of war Claude still seemed very much the same as he remembered him.

“No.” Byleth answered, smiling faintly as the flame warmed him to his core. “It's not your style. It's good to see you again, Claude.” Byleth reached out a hand and Claude clasped it in his own.

“Good to have you back, Teach.” Abigail meowed at both of them, pouting as to why she wasn't getting any attention. Claude looked past him and smiled again. “And if it isn't our little Abigail! What has our mascot been up to these past five years?” Abigail only stared in response before Claude went over to pet the feline who accepted it eagerly. Claude looked back at Byleth. “I should be asking you the same question. It's been five long years. Where have you been, Teach? You don't really expect me to believe that you've been napping this whole time, do you?”

“I was sleeping... or dead... I don't know which.” he answered pensively. He was as much in the dark about his absence as Claude was.

Claude chuckled. “That's a good one! Except... that's not your lying face. I guess I've got no choice but to believe you.” Claude stood back up and eyed him. “You're not exactly normal to begin with, so it's not a huge stretch to imagine you sleeping that long, or coming back from certain death. I mean you did it before.” There was a moment's pause before he spoke again. “Aaand this is where you say 'just kidding', right? If this is a rib, now's the time to fess up.”

“It's the truth. One moment I was falling down the cliff, the next I woke in a village at the base of the monastery. That was only a few hours ago.”

Claude shook his head. “You must be insane, and yet... ah, fine. I believe you, okay?” Claude hummed to himself. “But that means you don't know anything that happened after that battle, right?”

“No. All I know is that I've been asleep for five years and the monastery was abandoned.”

“Then I guess it's on me to catch you up. As you said the monastery was abandoned after the Empire crushed it, and the city below is in bad shape too.”

“Yes. I went through it while avoiding the thieves that are squatting there.” Byleth paused. “Thank you for the lessons in stealth. They came in handy.”

Claude snickered. “In that case maybe I should be the Teach now! Kidding of course. I already got a lot to deal with myself. Anyway I'll bet you're wondering why the monastery and city were never restored.”

“Rhea's dead?” Byleth asked, voicing his glum suspicion from earlier.

Claude shrugged. “Her body was never found, and the Empire never declared that she had been killed. So... no telling. We didn't see her get captured either, but then shortly after you disappeared I took the others and made our escape. All we know for sure is that Rhea suddenly vanished during that battle.”

Byleth's eyes flashed. “The others are safe?”

Claude nodded. “Don't worry, Teach. We all went our separate ways afterward, but I promise you they are alive.”

The flame soothed his body, relaxing him. Even if they weren't here it was at least some measure of comfort to know they still lived. “What about the Knights?”  
  


“They've been searching all over Fódlan for her, but the fact that this place is in ruins tells me they still haven't found her. If Rhea was captured she would most likely be in the Empire's hands, and I doubt they would let any of the knights enter their territory even if they asked nicely.”

“We must find her.”

“True. I got a mountain of questions I'd like to ask her after all.”

“Yes, I haven't forgotten about the answers we seek. But I'm also worried about her.”

“Worried, huh? Well for better or worse, she was clearly fond of you. But I'm not so sure whether it would be good for her to return as archbishop... rather with her gone...” Claude pinched his chin before shaking his head. “Never mind. This could be a dangerous conversation.”

The idea of Rhea not returning to her role troubled Byleth. As far as he could tell Rhea had been a fixture in Fódlan for some time, heading the church and aiding those in need. He wondered what a Fódlan would look like without her and her guidance. She did entrust him with her role and duties before he disappeared, but that was well beyond what he was prepared for and refused to think on it. Such a role was unbecoming of him. He could teach others how to fight and defend themselves, but heading a whole religion, one that he was not even privy towards? No, they needed Rhea to return to fill that role.

“It's probably for the best,” he commented.

“And there's no point in discussing it when we don't even know where she is. Right now let's focus on bringing you up to speed.” Claude gave him a look over. “By the way, are you hungry? After five years I'm sure you must be.”

Byleth put a hand to his stomach, and it grumbled at him in response. “...Yes. If you have anything with you, I'd appreciate it.”

Claude winked. “Lucky for you I do! It isn't much, but it's better than nothing.” Claude walked over to a darkened corner of the room and retrieved a sack that Byleth never noticed until now. From within Claude brought out several strips of jerky and offered them to him. Byleth took a handful while Claude brought out two waterskins.

“Sorry if they're a little salty,” said Claude as he handed Byleth a waterskin, “This should help them go down easier.” Byleth graciously accepted it as he bit off a piece of jerky. As warned, the meat had the distinct briny flavor mixed in with the obvious taste of venison. Byleth downed the piece with a sip of water as his stomach begged him for more. He repeated the process with the rest of the strip, finishing it in seconds as Claude smirked. “Looks like I was right.”

“It is salty,” said Byleth, “But anything would taste good right now. I need to get my strength back after sleeping for five years.”

“More than happy to help with that Teach,” answered Claude proudly. The both of them sat down on the stone floor and began eating in earnest. Abigail came over and stared at the meat in Byleth's hand. He lay down a couple strips for her and she began nibbling on them. It didn't take long before she pulled away and rejected the offer, instead nestling herself against Byleth's leg.

“By the way, Teach, do you remember the night before the ball? I know it was five years ago, but we promised that the Golden Deer House would reunite during the millennium festival. Today's the day we promised to meet up... but no one's here.”

“I do remember. When I arrived I searched all over the grounds for them, but never saw any sign they were here. I won't lose hope though. It's still early.”

“True, we still got the whole day ahead of us.”

“So what's happened to Fódlan while I was sleeping?”

“Hmm...” Claude mused. “Let's see... Well for starters the war hasn't been going in anyone's favor but Edelgard's. The Empire's main foe is, or rather was, the Kingdom. The southern lords put up the brunt of the fight for a time, but that all changed when a bloody coup took place and both the regent and... Dimitri were killed.”

Byleth had been biting down on another strip and upon hearing the news he bit down on his tongue, drawing blood. “Dimitri's... dead?” he asked somberly. When Claude nodded in confirmation, Byleth hung his head. Dimitri had always been a courteous and friendly student, ready to aid Byleth and others if they ever needed it and was desperate to ascend the throne to bring order to a nation in turmoil ever since the Tragedy of Duscur. He had always liked Dimitri for his generosity and sincerity, and got along quite well with the prince. Byleth wasn't as close to him as he was with Claude, but he liked the prince all the same. And now he was dead. The pain that stabbed his chest caused the flame to cool and smolder, reminding him of how he felt about Jeralt when he was killed.

“I can't believe it...” he whispered.

“It was hard for me to believe too,” Claude said sympathetically. “If he was going to die, I expected him to go down fighting, but not like that, and not that early in the war either. Since that day Cornelia, the former court mage, is in control of what is now called the Fareghus Dukedom, which contains most of the southern territories of the former Kingdom. They sided with the Empire once word began to reach them about the royal family's demise.”

“What about the Blue Lions?” Byleth asked, trying to sound concerned but the monotony of his voice betrayed him.

Claude shrugged. “No telling. I have to imagine they're helping House's Gautier and Fraldarius fight back against the Dukedom from encroaching any further. Both Houses were extremely loyal to House Blayddid so it'd make sense if they were, not to mention they'd want to avenge Dimitri after finding out about his death. He was their leader and friend after all...”

Byleth sighed dejectedly. “I hope they're all right...” Taking a moment to collect himself he resumed his breakfast, albeit at a slower pace.

“As of now the Dukedom and the Old Kingdom are stalemated and there's no telling when either side will budge. But no matter how you look at it, the Kingdom is fighting a defensive war now. Honestly I only think it's a matter of time before all of the Kingdom territory falls under Empire control.”

“Speaking of the Empire, what's become of them?”

“That I'm a lot less certain of. With the war and all, news about what's been going on in the Empire is slim to none. What I am certain of is that they are winning this war, and that Edelgard's been replenishing her forces after exhausting so many soldiers and resources in the Kingdom. Still, the Empire has a sizable presence in the Dukedom to help the lords there remember who's in charge.”

“And the Black Eagles?”

Claude shook his head and sighed. “No idea. They did help us defend the monastery during the battle five years ago, and that couldn't have sat well with Edelgard. Whether they're part of the Adrestrian army or if they've abandoned the Empire altogether is anyone's guess.”

Byleth closed his eyes as the embers continued to quietly burn. The more Claude went on about current affairs the sadder Byleth became. So much had happened to Fódlan since he vanished all those years ago. The Kingdom was on the verge of extinction, and he had to assume that the Empire wouldn't stop there. Worst of all the status of the students he had come to know and care for was unknown and he worried for all of them. The Blue Lions were at least slightly better off than the Black Eagles, yet Byleth worried that, if they were still alive, how badly were the latter punished for betraying the Empire?

“As for the Alliance,” Claude continued, “We've been able to maintain our neutrality for now, but it wasn't without consequence. Houses Gloucester, Ordelia, and Goneril are all vassals of the Empire now while Houses Riegan, Daphnel, and Edmund maintain their independence. The infighting between the pro and anti-Empire factions makes for very tiring roundtable conferences, but it's what we had to do to keep the Alliance from getting dragged into the war ourselves. Still, now that the Kingdom isn't much of a threat, it's only a matter of time before the Empire comes knocking on our door, neutral or not.”

Byleth took one last gulp of water as he finished his meal. “What do you plan to do?”

Claude smiled slyly. “Well now that you're here Teach I have something in mind about that.” He sounded confident with himself and Byleth couldn't help but wonder just what he meant by that. It wasn't as if the two of them and perhaps the others could fight the Empire themselves. Yet his words caused the flame to reignite and burn with that strange feeling of obligation he had hours ago before awakening. Whatever Claude had planned about the war Byleth was certain this was what Sothis was subtly urging him toward in his sleep.

He also happen to notice a change in Claude's demeanor. Though his flippant attitude was still prevalent it sounded almost... tempered. Maturity surely had to play a part in it, but there was more to it then that. Even though it had only been a handful of minutes and he therefore couldn't draw a conclusion from this one conversation, it appeared as though the war had an impact on his friend despite his lack of participation in it. He wondered what else might have happened to him in the Alliance that helped change the former house leader into the man he was looking at now.

Claude made a move to rise and Byleth followed him up, causing Abigail to bolt upright and make her way back toward the stairs. Claude stretched out his arms into the air as he sighed happily.

“I. Am. Stuffed.” he declared. “Even the most humble of meals tastes great with the right company. Now all that's left to do is just wait for the others to show up.”

“I know they will,” said Byleth monotonously, despite his effort to sound resolved. “However when they arrive they might get caught by the thieves and forced to fight their way here.”

“I was just thinking about that. Waiting around for them sounds boring so let's go get some exercise and help digestion among other things. Besides I'm sure you must be in bad shape if you're been sleeping for five years. It'll do you good to get your body moving again. I want to make sure neither your leadership nor your skill with a blade have dulled.”

Byleth nodded, then realized something was missing on Claude. He scanned the room for any sign of what he was looking for, but he could not find it. “Where are your weapons, Claude?”

Claude winked at him. “You'll see. It's a surprise I've been wanting to show you for some time now. Come on, let's head outside and you'll understand.” Claude led the way back down the stairs leading Byleth to follow him with his eyes, humming to himself. From flippant, to solemn, then back to flippant again Claude was always something of an enigma to him. One thing he knew for sure was that Claude was taking on a more commanding role than what he remembered of him. Just what occurred to him that caused this change? Despite the five years Claude still managed to maintain the air of mystery about him. He perhaps knew Claude better than most, yet it disheartened him to know that he didn't know everything about his friend.

Yet through it all he still trusted him completely. They had worked together closely to try to find the solutions to the plethora of mysteries that Fódlan's history brought and the Church was covering up. During his time as a mercenary he thought little of his homeland and its past for it was not necessary in that line of work, but now that Claude had brought him into his hunt for the truth he had to admit that he was just as curious as he was about it all. They were partners in this endeavor, and he hoped that one day they would discover the whole truth and share it with others. That meant finding Rhea who was at the center of it all, and if she was captured then they needed to locate her. For now though he would clear the way for his students to arrive for the reunion unharmed and focus on Rhea later.

Byleth followed Claude down who was waiting for him along with Abigail and together they walked in step as they made their way around the cathedral. As they approached the main entrance Claude stopped to gaze into its grand interior.

“I take it you already saw this?” Claude asked him, extending a hand toward the pile of rubble at the altar.

“I did.” Byleth answered dully. “I don't understand why the Empire found it necessary to tarnish this place. They had already won the battle didn't they?”

Claude crossed his arms as he continued to look at the desecration. “I'm not sure what sort of vendetta Edelgard has against the Church, but something like this almost seems... personal. She claims they were ruling all of Fódlan and dividing up the country in order to maintain power, but were they really? I mean there are many who follow the Church and its teachings, but they never had any real power over Fódlan. The Empire is run by the emperor, the Kingdom was ruled by a king, and the Alliance has the Roundtable. The Church was never directly involved with their affairs and only responded to calls for aid.”

Byleth pinched his chin. “I remember Ferdinand saying that the Empire had a falling out with the Church.”

Claude nodded. “The Southern Church, yeah. There was an insurrection about a hundred years ago and the Church of Seiros has never had a presence since. Still, even with all that in mind it shouldn't have led to something like that. I'm no follower of the Church myself, but even I know that this is just wrong. Something must have happened with Edelgard that caused her to be this spiteful toward them.”

Byleth nodded in agreement. _“What caused you to be like this Edelgard? I know you were guarded, but not cold.” _The flame flickered as he thought about her, wondering if there was something he could have done to prevent all of this from happening.

The two of them continued their trek across the bridge and made their way into the reception hall. They did so in silence before a question popped into Byleth's mind, something he realized he should of asked during their conversation.

“Claude,” he began, “The front gate was closed when I arrived. How did you get in?”

Claude smirked again and looked over at his companion without breaking his stride. “Just a little further, Teach, and you'll find out.” Byleth noted that Claude was being unusually coy for something that was so trivial to answer. Just what sort of surprise did Claude have in store for him?

They made their way out of the reception hall and directly through the entrance hall before Claude came to a stop.

“This should be good enough,” Claude mused, putting a hand on his hip. Byleth stepped up next to him and awaited Claude's action. Taking off one of his gloves, Claude brought two fingers to his mouth in a circular shape and let out a loud whistle, enough so that Byleth winced at the volume. It wasn't but a moment later that he heard the distant, but distinct roar of a wyvern from far off behind him. He spun around and within seconds he saw the creature on a course for the source of the call, swooping low and causing the turbulence to billow in their faces. The wyvern returned after circling around and hovered over the empty space in front of them before landing, causing small clouds of dust to burst forth from the impact. The sight of the massive creature frightened Abigail and she sprinted back into the entrance hall.

“Show off,” Claude joked, huffing at the wyvern's display and making his way down the steps. For his part Byleth was wide-eyed with shock as he took in the sight before him. This was certainly a surprise as he never expected Claude to take up wyvern riding, and without any knowledge about flying himself he almost never made it a part of his curriculum.

“That explains why the gate was closed,” Byleth stated. “And why the thieves were not on alert.”

“Right you are, Teach,” answered Claude as he massaged the wyvern's snout. “Although Tharvus here is actually on loan from back home. My wyvern came down with something bad recently so she's being tended to back home.” Claude looked over at Byleth who was still frozen in place as he gazed upon the reptile. “I can hear your mind churning away from over here, Teach. You're wondering why I have Tharvus here to begin with. I've told you about my mother before and how she was from House Riegan, right? But I've never told you about my father. Without getting into details he's Almyran, and learning how to ride a wyvern is something of a rite of passage there.”

Byleth went from shocked to stunned. Claude never once gave any sort of indication about his full heritage though Byleth had to admit that his tanned skin made more sense now. He recalled the conversation that Claude mentioned from way back during his early months as a teacher. Claude had told him and Hilda that his mother was from House Riegan but was now living in a different part of the world, but he never once spoke of his father. From his time with the Golden Deer he learned about the Alliance's rather strenuous relationship with Almyra, so he now understood why Claude would keep such a fact about his heritage a secret. There would likely be an uproar by the other noble Houses if it came to light.

“I see.” he answered flatly. “Then those times I had you on sky watch duty paid off.”

“Yep. It was good practice for what I planned to do. It would've been pretty embarrassing to attempt it if it hadn't been for you.” Claude went over to the saddle and unstrapped his quiver full of unique looking arrows along with the bow with an all too familiar coloration. It was shaped like a recurve, with three spikes protruding along either limb and a socket containing a crest stone was placed in front of the grip.

“That must be the real surprise. You have a Heroes' Relic now.”

“Right you are again, Teach.” Claude answered, beaming. “This is the Heroes' Relic of House Riegan, Failnaught. Now that yours truly is officially head of House Riegan, by right I'm now allowed to wield it.”

Byleth blinked. “Wait, you're...” Claude just seemed to be full of surprises today. He knew Claude was the heir to House Riegan, but he didn't expect him to inherit his title so soon. Him tossing out this new fact so casually was the only thing that didn't surprise him.

“Yeah, my grandfather passed away some time ago. His age finally caught up with him and he died in his sleep. I've taken over his duties ever since.”

“Congratulations... and I'm sorry for your loss.”

“Thanks, but it hasn't been without its downsides. With Count Gloucester raising up a storm during the Roundtable conferences and the other lords voicing their grievances about the state of the Alliance, it has been nothing short of chaotic. Luckily, now that you've returned Teach that's all about to change.” Claude mounted himself on his steed after securing his quiver and Failnaught to his hip and back, adjusting himself so that he sat comfortably atop Tharvus.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I plan on telling you my friend, but it would be better to say it to everyone all at once rather than one at a time. Promise.”

Byleth nodded, accepting his logic. “Very well. In the meantime we need to clear the way for the others to arrive.”

“Agreed. It may be just the two of us, but what are your orders Teach?”

Upon the request Byleth's mind immediately began whirring into action. Now that Claude could go airborne he would utilize it to great advantage. There were two sections of the city, one lower and one upper, and the thieves he saw on the way up were congested on the lower. However he had no idea what their numbers were like nor did he know if they were still looting the upper section of the city. Now that it was morning they were much more likely to be on the move searching for any more valuables left behind in the ruins.

Then he thought about their own strengths. Now that Claude was riding a wyvern he was going to be much more difficult to hit with his added maneuverability despite him being a bigger target. This also allowed him to rain down death from above, especially now with the inclusion of Failnaught, but it made him a more susceptible target for enemy archers. Still he knew his friend well and how wily he was on the battlefield and was confident Claude could avoid their assault, but that didn't mean he was just going to throw Claude into the fire and hope he doesn't get burned.

Meanwhile he would remain on the ground and deal with any thieves that decided to take cover from Claude's barrage. The thieves would not be expecting the Sword of the Creator to be used against them, so he had the element of surprise going for him. Not only did it have reach, but also utility such as using it to wrap around an opponent's weapon and disarm them before going for the kill. It wasn't just the Sword that the thieves had to worry about, but also his growing capability as a white mage. During his time at the academy he had taken to learning faith-based magic from both Manuela and Rhea to help alleviate some of the pressures Marianne faced as their primary white mage. He knew the basic nosferatu spell and was in the process of learning abraxas before war broke out in addition to being able to heal others of their wounds. It was on him until the others arrived to keep both he and Claude in shape.

“Claude,” he finally spoke, “Scout ahead and gauge their numbers. Find out whether they are mainly in the upper or lower districts. Keep high and turn back if you come under fire from archers, if they have any. We'll attack once you report back.”

Claude smirked again. “I'm on it, Teach.” he replied, impressed that Byleth was so quickly able to return to form. He pulled at the wyvern's reins and the creature roared before lifting itself into the air and fly toward the city. As ordered Claude maintained a lofty height while circling around the city's airspace and kept his eyes trained on the battlefield.

As Claude's reconnaissance proceeded Byleth went back to his planning. Their enemies were thieves so it was not too likely they were prepared to deal with seasoned warriors. They were probably too used to threatening unarmed and unprepared villagers by simply brandishing their blades and displaying a show of force. Still he knew better than to underestimate any opponent he were to face and would approach the battle as though they were as skilled as he was. Then there was their leader whom he knew to be careful around since he must still have the sacred axe that he took away from his cronies. No doubt the axe was powerful and potentially dangerous even in the hands of someone who never saw a sacred weapon in his life.

Byleth decided to prepare his body while he continued to wait. He heard the muscles in his arms and legs pop as they were stretched, thankful to be let loose after five years of inactivity. He was in such a hurry to arrive that he hadn't taken the time to properly engage in his morning routine and only now realized how tightened his body was. He unsheathed the Sword of the Creator and gave it a few slices through the air to remind himself of its deceptive heft. He noted his form seemed to still be in order, but the true test would come shortly.

He let his sword arm hang at his side as Claude made his return. His body felt like it was asleep for five years, but his mind felt as if it were only yesterday. He wish he knew how that was the case, but the only one who could provide the answer was either gone or at best unresponsive.

Claude's wyvern pulled around and hovered above where it once rested, flapping its wings and blowing wind slightly into his face yet he remain unfazed.

“The thieves are spread evenly throughout both districts,” Claude reported. “But it looked like there were more toward the lower one.”

“They're probably checking to see if there is anything left of value in the upper district,” Byleth commented. “I saw their leader earlier too. That could explain why they have greater numbers there. How many are there?”

“I counted about five dozen or so, less than half of which were in the upper district. None of them appeared to have bows so it should be no problem to pick them off from above.”

“Remain cautious all the same,” Byleth answered flatly, masking his concern. “If they do have bows tell me and I'll handle them. I'll take the western side of town and you take the eastern side.”

“Got it.” Claude grasped tightly onto the reins and smiled. “Ready to fight like in the old days, Teach? Minus the others of course.”

Byleth gave a curt nod. “They'll come, Claude. I trust them.” With that Byleth jogged past the gate and hurriedly made his way down the stairs back into the city with Claude proceeding directly to where Byleth would end up at the entrance. As Byleth once again stared back into the ruins he was made aware of the amount of cover that both he and the thieves had to themselves. It was all too possible that he would get ambushed at some point. After Claude and Byleth gave one final nod at each other, they proceeded into town.

With Claude flying lower than before it wasn't long before the thieves were alerted to their presence. Two of them came out from a collapsed home first focusing on the wyvern above them before realizing there was more easily accessible target nearer to them. Both of them unsheathed their swords and charged at Byleth, issuing battle cries as they did so. Byleth outstretched his free hand and the yellow glow of faith magic emanated from it. He flung it back then forward and a burst of light spawned at one of them, knocking him back from the attack. It gave the other one the chance to close the distance, but Byleth brought up his sword as soon as the thief brought his down on him, blade clashing against blade. Byleth could see the bloodlust in the man's eyes, wild and angry at the intrusion, but all he did was stare back as blankly as he looked at almost every opponent he faced. With quick reflexes he parried his opponent's blade and slashed him across his chest before he had a chance to recover. Crimson stained his clothes as he fell backward, the anger first leading to horror, then nothing. His partner recovered and tried the same tactic, but Byleth rolled to the side and took out his legs from under him. He plunged his sword into the man's heart, then moved on with nary a flicker of emotion.

More of the thieves emerged from the ruined buildings, four this time, each wielding more swords but one was armed with a bow. Wasting no time the thief fired at Byleth, only for the mercenary to roll to the side and cast another nosferatu at his assailant. The instantaneous burst of magic knocked the thief to the ground and Byleth recovered what little energy he had so far spent. This time the thieves were a little smarter and decided to all charge him at once. They weren't prepared for their opponent's sword to suddenly split into several pieces and whip right toward them, slashing at all three of them at once and slicing at their chests. The attack from Byleth was deep enough to rupture their hearts and they fell to the ground, blood pooling quickly beneath them. The archer got back up and upon seeing his fallen comrades attempted to flee, but a glowing red arrow from on high came down and punctured his neck. He didn't get far after that. Byleth looked up to see Claude salute him.

“Looks like you've still got it, Teach!” Claude complimented.

“Stay focused, Claude,” cautioned Byleth. “That one had a bow. There's bound to be more.” Claude took aim at him and let loose another arrow, but whizzed above his head and Byleth heard a startled cry behind him. Another thief managed to sneak up on him, but Claude was quicker. The thief fell to the ground, the arrow having pierced his head.

“You can thank me later.” Claude winked at him before returning to his side of the district. Byleth watched him with dull eyes before returning to the task at hand.

“_His skill with the bow seems to have improved. And to be able to aim perfectly while riding a wyvern is impressive.”_ Byleth made a mental note to gauge Claude's improved combat prowess later. Having been gone for five years he wondered just how much stronger his friend had become.

Proceeding further into the district he came upon more thieves. One of them was barking orders to the ones surrounding him, handing them bows and pointing to the east. Wasting no time Byleth once again split the blade in its whip-like form and brought it down toward the crowd. It cleanly bisected one of them and caused the others to look upon the grizzly mess in horror before turning toward the one responsible. Anger covered their faces at the sight of him, but again Byleth only stared back blankly.

“Kill that monster!” their leader demanded. The thieves did as instructed and let loose their arrows at him. He was able to dodge most of them, but one grazed his sword arm as he came out of his roll. The momentary wince of pain caused him to nearly drop his sword and gave the bandits enough time to let loose another volley. Again he was able to dodge most of them, but this time one found its mark and lodged itself in his other arm. He gritted his teeth as the pain seared through him, and it only caused his flame to burn hotter.

He looked up to see the thieves prepare another assault, their leader grinning smugly before an arrow pierced the side of his head. When the others turned to see what had happened, a beam of light from above shot downward and incinerated half of them. Both they and Byleth turned to see who the mysterious attackers were, and Byleth's eyes went wide as he saw them.

One of them was a woman in a navy blue gown that made her look similar to a priestess, with a diamond-shaped hole at its center and revealing a lighter blue gown underneath. She was also wearing a similar colored shawl draped over her shoulders. Her cerulean hair was bundled up in the back and some of it braided across the top of her head. She was riding a gray stallion that was partially armored.

Her companion wore a forest green cape that complemented his olive robe. A white dress shirt covered up his otherwise exposed forearms. A sword was strapped to one side of his waist and a quiver on the other, and... was that a quill on his chest? What allowed Byleth to identify him was the man's somewhat short, green hair and large glasses.

“Ignatz! Marianne!” Byleth shouted. The flame soothed his body upon seeing two more of his dear students. The thieves were unsure of who to attack now, so instead they split their targets. Those with blades drew them and went after his students while those with bows focused on him. Fighting back against the pain in his arm, he slid underneath what few arrows there were and cast another nosferatu. These thieves only stumbled this time, and the pain in his arm minimized slightly. It was the opening he needed; he had to get to his students.

He wouldn't be able to reach them fast enough, so instead he brought his whip down between them and the thieves, making his presence known. Both groups turned to him, and his students gasped in surprise as they looked upon the man they once thought dead.

“Professor?!” they both cried, but their attention instantly focused on the arrow still protruding from his arm.

“Never mind me! Marianne, kill the archers! Ignatz, let's take care of them!” Accepting his orders, Marianne brought down another pillar of light on the archers just as they were recovering, meeting the same fate as those before them. At the same time Ignatz dropped his bow and drew his sword and together teacher and student fought side by side as the thieves fought for their lives, slashing, parrying, and riposting expertly while the thieves only knew the basics. Byleth winced every time his arm swung, but the surge of adrenaline and joy he felt upon seeing his students was enough for him to urge him on. It did not take long before the more experienced swordsmen finished what remained of their foes.

Now that they had a moment's peace, Marianne dismounted her steed while Ignatz reclaimed his bow. The former hurried over to him.

“Professor Byleth...” she said in minor disbelief, “You're not a ghost are you?”

Byleth shook his head and smiled. “No. I'm real.” He paused a moment as he winced again at the arrow in his arm. “Hold on a moment.” He broke the arrow off on one side and slide the other out. Free of its confine, blood began trickling out of the hole it made. “Do you think you...?”

Marianne nodded and yellow wisps of magic came forth from her hand as she placed them on his wound. The sensation tickled at him and warmed the area around it so he would feel almost nothing as the hole closed up. Once done he let out a hum of contentment.

“There we are,” she said once she finished. “You should be okay now professor.”

“Thank you, Marianne. I'm-” he didn't have time to finish before he found himself wrapped up in Marianne's embrace, her arms coming under his and lightly placed on his shoulder blades. It took him by surprise. This was unusually forward of the timid girl and he didn't know how to react as he had never been hugged before in his life. The flame burned brightly at the comforting action however and so he decided to let it happen and revel in this new sensation.

“I'm so glad you're alive, professor,” she whispered, relieved. “All of us missed you so much.” Upon those words Byleth felt another surge of warmth from the flame and it spread throughout his body. He was happy to know that his students hadn't forgotten about him even after all these years.

“After we saw what happened to you at the battle five years ago,” Ignatz explained, “We were worried that it really was the end for you. I'm glad to see we were wrong.”

“I'm sorry you had to see that,” said Byleth as Marianne released him. “I will try to explain later once the others arrive.” Byleth looked back at the steed and studied it for a moment before looking to Marianne. “Is that... Dorte?”

“Oh!” said Marianne, pleasantly, “Yes, it is! When we made our escape from the battle I went back for him. I wanted to lead the other horses to safety too, but we were already pressed for time so hopefully the Knights saved all of them. I've been taking care of Dorte back home ever since.” Dorte whinged at him.“He's happy to see you alive too, professor.” Byleth continued to be surprised by Marianne. She didn't sound as quiet as she once was, and was speaking more at length than before. He noticed that the bags under her eyes had vanished as well and she appeared more radiant than ever before. He didn't know exactly what caused this change, but he felt the flame swell in his chest, proud that she had grown so much since he last saw her.

“I'm glad to see you too, Dorte,” he answered. He placed a hand on the horse's mane to brush it a few times.

“We saw a wyvern flying around on the way here,” Ignatz pointed out, “And someone riding it. That's not Claude is it?”

“It is.” Byleth answered plainly. “I don't know where he got it, but he's riding it like a professional. Speaking of which that last group should be all of the thieves on this side of town. We should join up with Claude and help him.” The two students nodded and Marianne mounted Dorte once more. Ignatz sheathed his sword and together the three of them headed toward the eastern side of the city. He continued to wear his trademark stony-face, but inside Byleth's spirits had been lifted. Two more of his students arrived for the promised reunion, giving him hope that the others would as well.

When they got closer to the other side they could hear the sounds of clashing steel. As they rounded the corner of a dilapidated store they could see two more people defending themselves from a group of thieves that had encircled them. One of them was clad in purple armor with ivory accents and wore lavender pantaloons. His hair was as violet as his armor with one side draped down to his chest while the other remained short. Upon his left pauldron was a red metallic rose that all too well identified who he was. He was wielding a silver lance but his hand was aglow with red wisps of magic, empowered by the odd-looking staff attached to his back that Byleth immediately recognized as Thyrsus.

His comrade was dressed in more agile attire with a sienna top and orange sleeves with two midnight shoulder guards. Her shorts only reached partway down her things and her boots came up to just below her knees. Her orange hair was longer than he recalled from before, with some of it tied in a ponytail down her left side to her collar. A quiver and bow was strapped to her back and she too wielded a silver lance.

“This wasn't exactly what I was expecting to do when we got here!” complained the woman as she blocked a downward slash.

“With the valuables the townsfolk had to leave behind,” said the man as he blast a thief with a fireball, “It should come as no surprise that bandits would loot the city.”

“You'd think they would have picked it clean after five years and no one stopping them.” Her opponent gritted his teeth as he tried to overpower her, but that came to an end when an arrow from Ignatz pierced his neck. Byleth dashed toward the other thieves and ran one through from his backside before he had a chance to react. Both the man and woman looked at the sudden aid and reacted much the same as Ignatz and Marianne.

“Professor!” they shouted in surprise.

“Getting yourselves surrounded?” he chided as he began clearing the other ruffians out along with Ignatz, Marianne, and Claude from above. “If this were a training exercise I would fail you both right now.” He flashed a smile so quickly that neither Leonie nor Lorenz noticed. Believing that he wasn't being serious the two only smiled at discovering their professor before resuming their efforts. With the six of them now they were able to quickly make short work of the thieves that remained. Once the dust had settled Leonie and Lorenz both approached Byleth.

“It's good to see you again Professor Byleth,” Leonie greeted, wrapping her arms around him and hugging a little more tightly than Marianne. Still he did not react, paralyzed about the sudden human contact. Fortunately neither girl seemed to mind his unresponsiveness. “I would've had a lot to explain to Jeralt if I told him how I couldn't save his kid five years ago.”

“It's good to see you too Leonie,” Byleth answered, that familiar feeling of happiness welling up within him again. “Fortunately you won't have to tell him. We will have to gather some flowers for him later. I... didn't happen to bring any.”

Leonie let go and pulled away from him with a sad expression. “It might have to wait for now. I doubt we'll find anything in the cold.”

Before Byleth could ask how Leonie could stand it with exposed legs and arms Lorenz came up to him and drew his attention away. The former held out a hand, for which Byleth clasped his own in. “I am pleased to see you are alive and well, professor. I suppose I should not be too surprised. In fact that is why I came here.”

“You're looking well yourself, Lorenz,” Byleth commented. “But I can't be the only reason why you're here.”

“Admit it, Lorenz,” said Leonie with a hand on her hip. “You missed us.”

Lorenz grimaced. “Well... perhaps a little, but that does not extend to everyone.” Lorenz tilted his slightly in Claude's direction who was perched on one of the roofs of the buildings behind him. Byleth was aware of Lorenz's disdain for the Riegan lord, for both his attitude and sudden appearance in the Alliance political theater, but he had at least brought them close enough to the point that Lorenz at least tolerated Claude. Try as he might he could not easily sway Lorenz to warm up better to Claude so he was forced to accept what he could get from the Gloucester heir.

“Aw I missed you too, buddy.” Claude teased as he twirled an arrow in his hand. Lorenz could only grumble at the indignity of his treatment. His tone immediately went back to being serious. “With those last thieves dead now that secures this section of the city. We should make our way to the lower district and clear them out there.”

“Right,” said Byleth, “And they must have heard us by now and are likely preparing for an attack. Claude, give me an update on their positioning.” Claude directed his mount into the air and scanned their next field of battle. It was only a moment before he landed gently among them at ground level. “Well?”

“The rest of them are amassed in the town square. All remaining thirty-five of them. ”

“They're trying to find safety in numbers,” Ignatz indicated, “If I recall there are four streets leading into the town square. Maybe we could approach them from the main streets closest to us and surround them?”

“That would only give them a chance to run if things get too tough for them.” Leonie countered.

“Couldn't Claude chase after them?” Marianne suggested.

“They're armed with bows,” Claude reminded. “All it would take is one lucky shot to bring me down. Oh, by the way, sorry for not hollering for you Teach.”

“As long as you're unharmed, it's all right.” Byleth stated.

“What if we were to block their only escape route?” Lorenz offered, “With Thrysus's aid I can bring down a building on the southern street and prevent any potential chance for them to flee.”

“That would keep most of them from running all at once,” Leonie pondered. “But stragglers could work their way through the ruins.”

“We can handle stragglers,” said Byleth. “I know that their leader will be among them. He's wielding an axe that looks like a sacred weapon. I recognized the blue glow on its head. So if he comes at any of you, be careful.” Byleth surveyed his students as they all nodded their heads, all of them agreeing on the plan. “We will split into teams of two, one healer in each pair. Marianne, you're with Ignatz and you will both take the western street. Lorenz, with Claude and you two take the eastern street. Leonie, you're with me and we will take the northern street. Lorenz will block their escape with his magic, and when they get distracted by the blast the rest of us will attack at range and take out as many as possible before switching to hand-to-hand.” They all voiced their affirmation of their orders and started to make their way toward the lower district. This time Claude was instead directing his wyvern to walk along with them and he came up next to Lorenz.

“You and me fighting side by side Lorenz,” Claude reminded cheerfully, “Aren't you excited?”

“Do not do anything reckless Claude,” Lorenz said in exasperation, “I did not come to this reunion just to watch you blunder.”

“Reckless? Me? How dare you sir!” Claude answered in faux-hurt. “I am the very image of caution!”

“Need I remind you of the many times you attempted to force your ill-advised schemes upon on poor professor during our time as students?”

“When do you think the wedding is?” Leonie whispered amusingly in Byleth's ear. Byleth glanced at her but said nothing as they proceeded down the street, his mind too focused on the upcoming fight. Meanwhile the flame in his chest continued to burn pleasantly as he jogged alongside his students, glad to be fighting alongside them once again. When they reached the entrance to the district they split off into their teams and began to circle around the center of town.

“Leonie. You're bow.” Leonie did as instructed and swapped her lance for it. He could see even from this distance that all of them had their weapons drawn and of varying makes from bows, to swords, to lances. As they got closer he could see Lorenz charging a fire spell in his hand while wielding Thyrsus in the other, glowing intensely and enhancing his spell's strength. Meanwhile he and the others were readying magic and arrows as they approached their enemies. All of the thieves braced themselves for what was to come the closer they came until they stopped at the edge of the square.

“This was supposed to be a dead city!” he heard from within the crowd of thieves, “Easy pickings! Now a bunch of kids come here to take what we rightfully took?!”

Byleth lifted a hand and threw it down, cueing Lorenz to launch his spell at the inn behind the group. Claude added on to Lorenz's attack by firing a charged arrow which looked like a bolt of glowing red energy and together the twin explosions they caused brought down the buildings, rubble crumbling down with a thunderous crash. That was the signal for the remaining four to begin their assault. Four of the thieves went down hastily and caused the others to descend into chaos. Some of them went after their attackers, while some of them fled in different directions as they went to wind their way through the alleys or clamor over the ruins. One of the fleeing men was the leader himself.

“Claude, chase down the stragglers!” Byleth called out, changing up tactics at the sudden change in their disposition. “I'll get the leader!” Claude took to the air once more while Byleth went to pursue the leader. He was stopped short when a burly man blocked his path, a heavy axe coming down in front of him and forcing Byleth to hop backward to avoid being split down the middle. Pebbles flew into the air as metal met stone, the axe carving a scar in the city street. The man looked at him with murderous intent as he lift his axe back up.

“My buddy says you got the drop on him,” he spat, “Now I'm gonna drop my axe on you!” The man charged while issuing a battle cry and hoisted the axe above his head. Byleth rolled to the side before the axe came down. The man tried to swing his axe back around, but Byleth locked his blade underneath the head. The man strained as he tried to force the axe toward Byleth's head while the latter grunted as he held his ground, gripping the sword with both hands. His opponent was even stronger than he looked and it was taking him all his strength to withstand his attacker. His opponent grinned arrogantly as he believed he was winning.

“Mine's bigger!” he heard a woman shout. A second after he heard it a large, circular, orange axe head came down and cut the thief's weapon in half. The man stumbled toward Byleth at the sudden loss in tension and Byleth rose up swiftly to land a punch to the man's gut, knocking the wind out of him. His helper didn't give the man the chance to recover as her axe dug into his chest and cut several vital organs. The man collapsed to the ground and blood quickly pooled beneath him.

Byleth stood up and looked upon the woman who helped him. She was a bit shorter than he was, wearing a brown battle dress that was attached around her neck and held tight by a pink corset and red belts. The sleeves were a faded pink with black stripes that ended with red, embroidered gloves, and would have left her shoulders bare were it not for her fur-trimmed shawl. Her black boots went above her knees, fastened snugly against her legs and were met by black tights. Her bright pink hair was no longer in just two long tails but rather she had grown even more since he last saw her and she was sporting large, looped earrings.

“Hilda?!” said Byleth, astounded that Hilda of all people came to his aid.

“Boy am I glad to see you, professor!” Hilda answered warmly as she stared at him with those pink eyes of hers, smiling cheerfully at him. “I was hoping you'd make it! Now go on and get that guy. Chasing after him would be too tiring on my legs, but yours are practically built for running and climbing!” Before Byleth could react Hilda joined the others in the melee. Getting back to his feet he resumed his pursuit by going down the direction he last saw his target. He vaulted over the busted stone wall ahead of him and headed the long way around the cluster of buildings as he followed the street close to where he first came in. He knew where the leader was headed, but with a head start worth several seconds he could only hope he was fast enough to make up for lost time.

Suddenly he heard what sounded like an explosion over the chorus of weapons clashing and he turned just in time to see a purple flash fade behind buildings a few clicks from where he was. He made his way back around the buildings he just passed and followed the street down toward the source, snaking around debris and rubble and firing his whip at a thief he happened to spot fleeing the scene. When he rounded another corner he found the leader slumped on the ground across from him, propped up against what remained of the building he had apparently been blasted into and the sacred axe flung a few feet away. The gate leading out of town was some yards away and Byleth was glad someone caught up to him.

The one responsible had her back turned to him. She was wearing a violet dress with white sleeves that was embroidered gold on each end. She wore white tights that went the full length of her legs and wore black dress shoes. Much like Hilda she was also wearing a shawl to protect her from the cold. Her long, white hair came down just above her waist and was covered somewhat by a violet veil. It was the hair that tipped him off as to who she was.

“Ugh,” she groaned as the purple haze around her hands disappeared. “The instant we arrive and we're already having to battle. We should've arrived late.”

“Lysithea.” Byleth said flatly. At hearing his voice, Lysithea spun around and gasped as one her hands came up to her mouth as it hung open slightly. From beneath her shawl he saw she a strap of leather that went down the center of her chest and could now see how the veil was attached around the two lengths of hair on either side of her face.

“Professor Byleth?” she breathed, gazing into his face and feeling a wellspring of emotion before letting it out in a sigh of relief. She smiled at him as her hand dropped to her side. “You are alive. I was hoping you were, but after what happened five years ago I thought...”

The flame in his chest dimmed as he heard the dread in her voice. “I'm sorry to have left you and the others like that. I did not mean to make you worry.”

“It doesn't matter anymore,” she said as she shook her head, “All that matters now is that you're here with us. I'm so happy to see you again, professor.”

The flame regrew in intensity and he smiled faintly back at her. “I'm happy to see you too, Lysithea. You and the others.” The sounds of combat back toward the town square had now died out. They both looked briefly in that direction before Byleth sheathed his sword again. “We should go regroup with them. Claude has something to share with all of us.”

“I presume everyone else has arrived then?” she asked him as he came over and picked up the axe. Now that he held it in his hand he could see a small Crest of Gloucester engraved at the base of the head. Already he decided who he would choose to wield it.

“Yes. Although I have not seen Raphael yet.”

“He came here with Hilda and myself. He must've already joined up with the others.”

“We should do the same.” He turned toward her and smiled faintly again, the flame warming him all across his body. “Shall we?”

Lysithea beamed. “Yes. Let's.” So teacher and student walked side by side together as they returned to complete the Golden Deer house. Lysithea smiled the whole way back, relived that her professor was still alive and content that the reunion would not be bittersweet after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we have it! The Golden Deer and their "deer" professor (not sorry) are reunited at last and we finally have our main couple interacting with each other! Been looking forward to this for a while now.  
I hope the battle scene was adequate enough. It proceeds much differently than shown in the game with he and the Deer taking a moment to greet each other before moving on as opposed to "Hey! Nice to see you! Hold that thought..." Even so they are dealing with thieves so it's not like they're under too much threat. I also wanted to show that despite the fact Byleth fused with Sothis he's not untouchable since he's still human and therefore not perfect, all the while still better than most people he'll run into.  
I'm gonna try to get the next chapter up before Christmas as I have something special planned for that day. I won't reveal what it is other than that it'll be a one shot and feature Byleth and Lysithea of course. Expect to see that then!


	4. The Verdant Wind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Golden Deer are reunited with their professor after nearly five years. Lysithea is pleased that Byleth is alive and well, and is glad that her friends are safe too. No one knows what should come next, but Claude has a scheme in mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been too long since I last updated this, but here it is! It would have been longer actually, but I decided to omit the section I planned at the end as it didn't fit the theme of the chapter. Instead it will be in the next one along with the necessary build up for it. Anyway, without further ado, onto Chapter 4!

Lysithea couldn't believe her luck as she followed alongside her professor. Despite what she witnessed nearly five years ago, here he was, alive and, apart from a recently closed arrow wound in his arm, none the worse for wear. There wasn't a drop of sweat anywhere on him, and he kept that same stony-faced expression that he always bore, at least to the untrained eye. In all the time they had spent together she liked to believe she could read the subtle shifts in his face to gauge his emotion. His brows were raised almost unnoticeably and there was a minute crease in his cheeks. To others it would go unobserved, but she could tell that he was at ease and could easily assume why.

Yet his appearance puzzled her. He was still donning the same wardrobe that Rhea had gifted him and aside from the singular hole in his half-robe he looked unscathed. He kept his eyes trained forward like he always did as though moving with purpose. His stride was that of someone who was walking as if it was just another day. He didn't even appear to have aged at all despite the almost five year gap. He looked and acted almost exactly like he did when she last saw him.

She wondered what sort of magic he used to preserve himself, but she shook that thought away. Though he had a growing affinity for white magic, he was nowhere near her level, and there wasn't any spell she knew of in that field that could prevent death. The only other possible explanation was that it had to do with the power that was granted to him. Even then it didn't make too much sense. He only had it for a short time before the battle took place, not nearly enough time to learn what he was capable of. How, then, did he survive?

She clasped a hand on her chin. She struggled to come up with a satisfying answer, yet she found none.

“Something troubling you, Lysithea?” Byleth asked, snapping her out of her pondering. He sounded as flat as ever, but then she had grown accustomed to his tone and rather liked it. No hint of judgment to be heard, no talking down to her, just honest words.

“No, it's nothing professor,” she answered. “Don't worry about it.” She decided that it didn't matter one way or the other. What was important was that he was alive and relatively unharmed. She had been so happy to see him again that she wanted to hug him, but... she dared not give in to that side of her. It was a happiness she couldn't allow herself to have. It was a line she did not wish to cross. It was more suited to those who had the time for it.

“I noticed you've grown taller,” he commented with a hint of amazement. It was true. A year and a half after the Battle of Garreg Mach she had grown a few inches, much to her and her family's shock. Where she was once a full head shorter than he was, now she could look at his face without needing to tilt her head.

“I was quite surprised myself,” she admitted. “Apparently I still had one final growth spurt left in me. Perhaps now people won't look down on me like they did at the Officers Academy.”

Byleth nodded. “I hope so too. They should not have been so quick to judge you based on your age or size.”

“No. They shouldn't have,” she scowled before brightening up. “But you never did professor. You treated me as equally as everyone else, and I will always appreciate that.”

His faint smile grew just a little. “You're welcome.” Byleth eyed her for a moment, seemingly evaluating her. “I like your new look.”

Lysithea twitched at the compliment and felt her cheeks get warmer as they flushed a little. “O-oh, thank you, professor. My mother designed it for me along with my own input, so I'm glad to hear that someone else likes her fashion sense too.”

Byleth raised a curious brow. “Someone else?”

Lysithea nodded. “Hilda complimented my dress as well while we were on our way here.”

“Ah, I see. It suits you very well.”

“Th-thank you. I'm glad you appreciate it.”

They walked on in brief silence as they wound their way through the ruins of the city and toward the growing chatter of the other Golden Deer at the town square. Lysithea was startled to hear such a flattering compliment from Byleth, or at least as close to flattery as he could make it. Admittedly she didn't think she had much of a sense for fashion herself and relied mostly on her mother's. She had changed much since the Academy, and wanted a new appearance to compliment that change. Hilda's praise for it already boosted her confidence in the finished product, and to hear her professor do the same only did so further.

It wasn't long before they arrived and Lysithea perked up more at the sight of all of her friends gathered together after so many years of being apart. All of them were either dusting themselves off or busy reuniting with each other. Hilda was practically gushing over Marianne and her new look while Raphael had Ignatz in a bone-crushing hug. Leonie was busy wiping her lance clean of blood while Lorenz was hounding Claude about some subject or another and the latter was... with a wyvern? That was new. She didn't recall Professor Byleth teaching much about flying while they were in school. Regardless Lysithea couldn't help but smile at the sight of her friends again. Though their appearances were starkly different than how she remembered them, they were still very much the same odd group of people that she had come to enjoy.

When she first started the school year she had no intention of making friends with her classmates or any of the students from the other Houses. What would be the point? She would only end up leaving them all soon enough and it would have been better to know that her passing would not have mattered to them. However thanks to Professor Byleth and the unifying power he had over them as their teacher she had grown far closer to them then she originally thought, something that she realized she did actually want for herself. She may have only so long left to live, but she was still a person with needs and wants, and she discovered that having friends was something that deep down she had wanted all along.

“Professor Byleth!” Raphael yelled as she and Byleth came into view. He set Ignatz down and allowed the artist to recover before approaching the professor.

“Hello, Raphael,” Byleth greeted with a slight smile, “It's good to see- grk!” In an instant Raphael had wrapped his arms around Byleth, silver gauntlets and all, and gave him an equally strong hug as he lifted him into the air. Byleth's face contorted as the wind was knocked out of him and his fingers stiffened at the force being applied to him.

“I always knew you were still alive! I just knew it! Ah, this is so great! We're all back together again!”

“Put him down, Raphael!” Lysithea commanded as she stared in alarm. “We only just got him back! We don't need him dying on us again!”

“Huh? Oh!” Raphael looked at the expression on Byleth's face before setting their teacher's feet back on the ground and appearing apologetic. “Sorry about that, professor. Guess I got a little carried away...”

“It's... all right...” Byleth assured weakly in between gasps. He took a deep breath and finally recomposed himself. “I'm just glad to see you again.”

“And we're all glad to see you too, professor!” Hilda reciprocated pleasantly as the rest of the group joined with them. Claude took a position on Byleth's other side while patting his shoulder. Hilda then put her hands on her hips and pouted. “But what gives?! We were walking the whole morning to get here and you're already making us fight? Not exactly the best start to this class reunion!”

“I'm still tired from the long journey myself,” Leonie added, slightly annoyed. “How did it come to this?”

“Let's just all take a moment to calm down and catch our breath,” Ignatz suggested uneasily.

“Mmm, if you had enough time to play around with those guys,” Hilda continued, seemingly ignoring Ignatz, “The least you could do is prepare some tea.”

“Blame Claude,” Byleth deadpanned. He glanced over to Claude with a smirk just as the latter was realizing he was being messed with.

“Come on!” Claude protested. “Those guys were thieves! We couldn't just let them get away.”

Lysithea looked incredulously at the professor at his sudden sense of humor. She never would have guessed that he would even have one judging from his near constant monotonous behavior, but she assumed that by being around Claude enough that a part of their house leader's humor rubbed off on him. She hoped that he would never direct it towards her; she didn't handle teasing very well, though she had to admit that she was glad it was directed at Claude, someone she felt deserved it for how normally flippant and irritating he could be. That and she still keenly remembered his teasing of her and her fear of ghosts.

Claude directed his attention to the rest of the group as he went on. “It seems they've been taking advantage of the church's absence and doing whatever they please here.”

“In any case,” said Marianne, smiling as she did, “Um... I'm glad that all of you are well.”

Lysithea was almost taken aback by Marianne. That was one of the very few times she ever heard her speak up, and more importantly she didn't sound as negative as she remembered. Even more surprising was that she was not nearly as quiet as she used to be. Her voice was still as soft as she remembered, but higher pitched than the whispering she had known Marianne for. Lysithea was impressed that her pious friend had appeared to have grown much since she last saw her.

“That's the spirit, Marianne!” responded Ignatz with vigor.

“I wouldn't mind romping around some more,” Raphael remarked, “It was good to get these muscles really working after five years of just training them.”

“How about you, Teach?” Claude inquired. “Was that enough of a workout for you?”

“Well enough,” Byleth answered plainly. “My duel against the bigger man showed me that I'm still a little sluggish.”

“That is no surprise,” said Lorenz, “After five years of inactivity, your body must be incredibly sore and overdue for a return to form.”

“Though it does seem your skills haven't dulled during that time,” Leonie noted. “So that's a relief.”

Claude chuckled to himself. “I'm just glad everyone's alive and well. And on that note, let's move this reunion party to somewhere more agreeable.”

“Let's return to the cathedral,” stated Byleth, “You have something to tell all of us.”

Claude gave a sly smile. “That I do. Now that we're all here it's almost time to put my grand scheme into action.”

“And just what do you mean by that, Claude?” Lysithea asked curiously.

“All in good time Lysithea,” he replied, “But first let's take Teach up on his suggestion and head back to the cathedral. All of you need to see what's become of the monastery in the church's absence.” After whispering a few words to his wyvern, the creature snorted before taking to the air and flying off toward the monastery, leaving its rider behind. Claude then turned to Byleth and nodded at him. “Lead the way Teach.” Byleth nodded back and together the nine of them proceeded to return to the monastery.

Lysithea gave a suspicious raise of her brow at Claude as she walked alongside her professor once more, wary of just what their former house leader had in mind for them. It was vexing that he was withholding something from them, something important from the sound of it, but then again it's just what she expected from him. The man's mind wasn't really a bowl as he had once pointed out years ago, but more of a maze to her with many passages for anyone to get lost in, including herself. She knew better than to underestimate him after all the time she's known him, his casual and sometimes joking behavior belied Claude's impressive intellect. Whatever he had planned for her and the others was bound to be something major.

The way back was filled with causal and friendly banter among the group as they locked in step with one another. Much of the multiple conversations taking place were of each person sharing what they had been doing since they last saw each other.

Ignatz was helping his parents with the Victor Trading Company by shuttling goods and wares between the two factions of the Alliance as well as what remained of the Kingdom. The roads had become more dangerous since the war began, leading the merchants to go through more checkpoints then ever before and forcing them to go through sometimes unnecessary scrutiny. His House's wealth ensured that business could keep flowing but otherwise the war was putting a strain on their logistics and finances.

As she learned from their journey here, Raphael was busy assisting with running a restaurant with his grandfather and younger sister, Maya, while searching for employment as a knight. No such luck came for him as the lords of the Great Houses were wary of spies both from the opposite faction and from the Empire. Instead he had discussed about how his sister was growing to be an impressive cook, taking great care to learn all she could from their grandfather and he grinned the whole time. Maya reminded her somewhat of herself from listening to him, dedicating herself to a topic and aspiring to be the best at it. She wondered if Maya might also be interested in learning how to bake too, and if she enjoyed her sweets much like she did.

Much like Raphael she already knew what Hilda had been doing during their time apart, and it amounted to... not much, or at least nothing major. With Duke Goneril and Lord Holst handling both the political and military affairs of their territory, Hilda spent most of her time socializing and improving her crafting skills. Lysithea had also noted that Hilda's arms and legs appeared to have grown a little more muscle since she last saw her, no doubt from either her brother encouraging her to keep up with her training, or perhaps from Byleth's lessons sinking in. From watching her fight she knew there was always an underlying strength in Hilda, but one would never have been able to tell due to how thin her limbs were. Now it had become far more noticeable although she suspected it didn't do much to change how Hilda approached matters requiring effort.

Leonie was already following in Jeralt's footsteps by loaning herself out as a mercenary. Before that however she contributed to her village's defense from the occasional bandit attacks, setting up a militia of sorts to ensure her home's safety before setting off on her own. Her services weren't restricted to just the Alliance, but to the remains of the Kingdom as well where she slowly built up a reputation in both lands, providing security for caravans and dealing with the odd bandit nests that threatened vulnerable villagers. She wanted to extend her support to the villages that dotted the Empire, but due to the war it made for unsavory travel and as such avoided work there.

Lorenz had returned home to aid his father in their territory's affairs all while continuing to be groomed for the position as Count. Much of their work involved having to appease the Empire as the leader of the pro-Empire faction of the Alliance, and the only House in that faction to directly speak with envoys. Her own House was very rarely considered due to their weakened position as a whole, and House Goneril was dedicated to preventing any Almyran invasions given the Alliance's and Fódlan's fractured state and as such were left alone.

Despite her House's weakened state, her father was still asked to attend them, though it felt more like a courtesy as he held little sway during the Roundtable conferences, and it was from him that she was mostly aware of how Claude was doing. As the current Duke Riegan he was the one leading the anti-Empire faction and was constantly at odds with Count Gloucester about the Alliance's circumstance. The infighting became more strained as the war went on, with the Fareghus Dukedom in a dominating position over what remained of the Kingdom and soon the Empire would turn their attention to the Alliance after having maintained its neutrality for so long. Gloucester, feeling the pressure considering his territory would be invaded first, has been trying to get Claude to either surrender or attack to avoid that inevitability, but the latter never gave in.

But by far the person that surprised her the most was Marianne. Similar to Lorenz, she had been aiding her adoptive father in governmental affairs, but what impressed Lysithea was the remarkable improvements the once quiet, depressed girl was. Her hair was not unkempt as it once was, and the bags under her eyes had faded away. As she noted earlier, Marianne wasn't being called upon by others for her to speak and actively engaged in their conversations, even speaking a little more loudly than she used to and with a bit more confidence in herself. The cerulean-haired woman's growth was astounding, and Lysithea couldn't help but wonder what led to such a transformation. Perhaps her tough-love words got through to her? Or was there more to it to that?

While listening to everyone's recollections Lysithea stole glances at Byleth, who had been silent the whole time. His eyes would sometimes look over to whoever was speaking, but mostly he kept his eyes trained forward as he lead them back toward the monastery. What was constant on his face was a faint smile and warm eyes that denoted his joy by just simply being around his students and friends again. It was not often he did so, and she couldn't recall seeing him hold one for this long. Even so just seeing him happy was enough to make her happy too, and seeing him smile was enough to remind her that behind his nonchalant exterior there was a person inside.

“So where have you been this whole time, Professor Byleth?” asked Leonie, voicing the concern that was on Lysithea's mind, and everyone else's it seemed.

“I was interested in knowing myself,” added Lysithea, deciding to latch on to the question now that it was out in the open. “We saw what happened to you at the Battle of Garreg Mach, and yet aside from the new scars from fighting those thieves you look completely unscathed.”

Byleth's smiled turned to a frown as he tilted his head down. His brows knotted and Lysithea wondered if perhaps they shouldn't have asked, or if he was contemplating his answer.

“I don't know what happened to me,” he stated.

“Do you remember anything at all about what happened?”

Byleth pinched his chin in thought. “Not much. I remember falling into the valley after the ambush from the man who stopped me from saving my father. Everything went black, then only a few hours ago I woke up near a village at the base of the monastery.”

“You were... sleeping?” Hilda inquired, dumbfounded. “For five years?”

“But that doesn't make sense though,” pointed out Lysithea. “A fall from that height would be lethal to anyone.”

“And you could not have been dead,” said Lorenz, “Even with your power it is hard to believe that you could revive yourself after such a fall.”

“Perhaps it was the will of the goddess?” Marianne suggested.

“Actually I find that to be more believable,” Claude chimed in. “Without knowing the whole story, the only answer I can think of is nothing short of divine intervention. The goddess was apparently existing in Teach after all, so wouldn't it make sense that she was involved somehow?”

Lysithea's eyes went wide at the reminder of her professor's unique situation. She had almost forgotten that, according to him, the goddess Sothis was once existing in his mind. It was quite a shock when he came back to them in the Sealed Forest and both his eyes and hair color had change to a minty color, far from his teal hair and blue eyes that she was used to. It was quite a shock to all of them when they learned how the transformation came to be, and she remembered how Marianne had a difficult time coming to accept that. None of them had any idea just what sort of abilities he was capable of using now.

It had also been a frightening moment for her. From her experience the only time a person's hair changed from its natural color was when they had been experimented on. His explanation, bizarre as it was, diminished her fear a little, but it still begged the question as to how he, of all people, had the goddess living in him. How did that come to be? What's more it did nothing to assuage her fear that perhaps he now had a shortened life as well. It was just one more reason why she felt drawn to him and she wanted to know for sure, but given how he knows nothing of his past and the mystery of his circumstance it was a moot subject.

“But didn't you say Sothis disappeared after she gave you her power?” Lysithea countered.

“Actually,” Byleth interjected at last, “Just before I woke up she spoke to me.”

“Really?” asked Ignatz, intrigued. “What did she say?”

Byleth furrowed is brow. “I'm not sure. She was cryptic. She wondered how long I was going to rest, and then told me how the land was suffering from the war. That was about it.” Byleth's eyes flashed as he seemed to remember something else. “I was also floating in... nothingness. A void. Not like where Solon sent me as I couldn't move my body, but it felt warm and inviting.”

“Maybe it was a dream?”

“Maybe,” Byleth shrugged in defeat. “I don't remember more than that.”

“That's still not a lot to go on...” said Claude as he rubbed the back of his head. “But I guess if you don't remember then you don't remember.”

“You really are one, big mystery aren't you Professor Byleth?” said Hilda before giggling. “I guess that's why Claude finds you so fascinating.”

“What's important is that he's back!” Raphael exclaimed. “So... uh, what comes next?”

“Just a little bit longer, Raphael,” assured Claude. “Promise.” With that the conversations steered back to light chatter between them as they ascended the staircase back up to the monastery proper.

Lysithea couldn't help but continue to ponder at the answer Byleth had given for his disappearance. None of it made it any sense to her. He couldn't have been sleeping this whole time since, as Lorenz indicated, a fall from the height he was at would have been lethal. And he clearly did not die or else he would not be here walking among them now. Perhaps it was somewhere in between? A sort of stasis he was placed in by the goddess to aid in his recovery? That would mean he had fallen to his death and survived somehow and the goddess was healing him for nearly five years.

She let out a quiet sigh to ensure that the chatter around her would hide it from the others. She conceded Claude's point that it could only be a matter of divine intervention. There really was no other possible explanation for it.

When they arrived at the monastery, a silence fell over the group, the only sound to be made was the billowing wind. They stared at the empty space that was once abuzz with activity from vendors and their patrons from long ago. They often came here to see what the latest wares were, or more often than not replenish or repair their supply of weapons and ready themselves for their monthly mission and other, more minor, tasks. Other times they would receive word of how things fared beyond the Oghma Mountains to Fódlan at large. Now it had become eerily quiet and lifeless, a far cry from how Lysithea remembered it and she could not help but feel unnerved at what she saw.

“It's... too quiet,” said Ignatz, stating the obvious and what was on everyone's mind. “It's almost spooky how we're the only ones here.”

“I remember how lively the marketplace used to be...” Hilda somberly reminisced as they walked on cautiously. “I would come here to see what cute little accessories the vendors had brought, but now...”

“The monastery used to be filled with the sounds of students and knights,” said a downtrodden Marianne as she guided Dorte along with her. “With how quiet it is, it doesn't feel like Garreg Mach Monastery anymore.”

“And with the knights no doubt searching for Lady Rhea,” said Lorenz as he surveyed some of the damage to the architecture, “The monastery has fallen into a state of disrepair. Despite her victory it seems the emperor was not content to leave this place be.”

“It gets worse in the cathedral,” informed Claude, “There's a hole in the ceiling directly above where the altar is, which itself is buried under the rubble.”

“That seems a little... excessive,” commented Leonie.

“Edelgard did make it clear that she has a dislike for the church, but I agree. Don't know why she felt the need to kick a horse while it was down.”

“Now look at this place,” said a crestfallen Raphael, “It's like a ghost town here.”

Lysithea shivered at Raphael's description. “Don't be ridiculous, Raphael. There are no such things as ghosts.”

“Better stick close to us just in case though, Lysithea,” teased Claude. “You never know if they might be lurking in the dark corners of the halls.”

“Very funny, Claude,” she seethed as she glared over at her former house leader, daggers shooting from her eyes. If it were five years ago she might have prepared her magic to retaliate against such absurdity from him, but she decided she didn't want to cause a scene in front of everyone. Even after all this time somehow he was still able to get under her skin.

While they made their way to the cathedral Marianne broke off from the group to lead Dorte into the stables and make sure he had enough to eat. Byleth had asked Leonie to go along with her to help in any she could and to ensure Marianne's safety in case they were being followed. Lysithea couldn't fathom why anyone would be following them here. With the war going on and the monastery mostly devoid of life it was not strategically sound to be monitoring this place for any activity. Then again it also wouldn't be a good idea to completely ignore the monastery since the Knights of Seiros were still out there and could potentially return.

As they continued through the reception hall Lysithea noticed just how much disarray the building was in. Tables and stools were toppled over and bits and pieces of the walls were either cut or chipped. From what she had heard from survivors much of the knights and staff had fled the moment Lady Rhea had vanished. With a distinct lack of bodies to be found Lysithea could only surmise that the Empire's soldiers sought to vandalize the monastery after the battle was over. She had to agree with Leonie and Claude about their assessment of the damage. It all felt wholly unnecessary.

Lysithea glanced over at the professor whom she noted had been strangely silent during their walk and observations. He was surveying the damage himself, his eyes darting to a knocked over stool, a section of the wall that had a particularly long gash in it, or the piles of splintered wood that littered the floor. Though he looked as neutral as ever, she noticed that his hands had balled into fists as he gazed upon the defacing and carnage and realized that he must have been upset.

“Are you all right, professor?” she whispered, “You appear... tense.”

“To see the monastery like this...” he muttered before drifting back to his observations. Her eyes followed where his went as she joined him in them.

“It is hard to grasp,” she remarked solemnly, “With how pristine this place once was.”

“I consider the monastery my home.”

Lysithea whirled her head to him at the comment, not expecting to hear something like that. “Really?”

Byleth nodded. “Yes. We were always on the move when I was a mercenary. Garreg Mach Monastery is the first place I ever settled in.”

Lysithea looked away at no spot in particular mournfully. “And now you come back just to see it like this...” Her sympathies went out to him. Had she felt a similar feeling toward the monastery, she might have felt the same way upon viewing how tarnished the monastery was.

She had been surprised to hear that he felt this way about the monastery, but upon thinking about it momentarily it made sense. From what little she had learned about his past, he had always been stoic and unmoving during his days as a mercenary and for the first few months at the monastery that much was apparent to her. But as time wore on his mood had shown improvement, and he very slowly became more expressive with her and the others, no doubt due to how much he must have enjoyed being here. So many good memories he must have made during his brief tenure at the monastery, and now to see it abandoned and neglected, she could understand why he felt this way.

As they crossed the bridge to the cathedral, they were rejoined by Marianne and Leonie, the former carrying an all too familiar feline in her arms as they did. There was a short amount of jubilation from all of them, minus Lorenz, at seeing Abigail again, and Marianne showed no small pleasure of seeing the Golden Deer's pet again. Lysithea was pleased that Abigail had managed to survive all these years here and did not show any sign of undernourishment. Though she gave more attention to both Byleth and Marianne, she was still friendly with most of them, though normally paid no mind to Lorenz. It seemed their disinterest in each other was mutual.

Once inside the cathedral, she saw exactly what Claude had meant earlier. The altar on the opposite end was buried under a small hill of rubble and the morning light poured in from the hole directly above it. It was by far the most amount of destruction she had seen as they made their way here. Though not exactly religious herself, even she had to admit that it was disheartening to see the once hallowed place be reduced to what amounted to a war zone.

“You were right, Claude,” said Hilda as she studied the damage, “The Empire really gave their all in wrecking the place. It's almost like they were sending a message...”

“Whether it's Edelgard letting everyone know how much she dislikes the Church,” answered Claude, nodding in agreement, “Or if it's something far grander than that, who can say. I'm inclined to believe it's both.”

When they reached the altar, Claude separated himself from the group and motioned for Byleth to stand next to him. Both of them turned to meet their friends as they awaited in anticipation for just what Claude had planned for them.

“Now, Claude,” Lorenz spoke up, “Just what is it are you intending for us?”

“Now that we've dealt with those violent bandits,” Claude addressed, placing a hand on his hip, “We could potentially use this place as our base of operations again.”

“What could you possibly mean by that?” Hilda asked, tilting her head slightly. Lysithea was beginning to suspect what Claude's intentions were.

“I'm talking about the Leicester Alliance taking over Garreg Mach Monastery. After all, it's right in the middle of Fódlan. It's a critical strategic location.”

Lysithea's eyes went wide at the confirmation at her suspicions. “Are you suggesting that we fight back against the Empire?” Lysithea could feel a burning sensation welling within in her at the mention of Claude's goal. Strangely, she noticed that Byleth's eyes had gone wide as well, but rather than with surprise he looked... concerned.

“Aren't you getting a bit ahead of yourself?” Lorenz protested, “The Alliance is in complete discord at present.”

“And,” Claude retorted, eyeing his Gloucester counterpart, “As leader of the Imperial faction of the Alliance, isn't Count Gloucester, your father, the main cause of that discord?”

Lorenz flinched. “I... Yes, that is true. It was inevitable. Our house's territory is close to Imperial land, after all. Had we not consented to vassalage, they would have invaded immediately.”

“Naturally. And to be clear, I have no problem with your house maintaining its Imperial ties until we're sufficiently prepared to revolt.” Claude returned his attention to the rest of the group. “The Empire is the cause of the infighting. If we rid ourselves of them, the situation should resolve itself. That's why I'm thinking we should make this our base, raise up an army, and stir up some trouble for the Empire.”

“Now you're talking!” Raphael remarked excitedly, “Sounds like fun!”

“So then, Mr. Leader Man,” said Hilda, “Does this mean you intend to rope us into your little scheme?” Lysithea would hardly call Claude's plan “little”. He was talking about risking their lives against a nation that controlled nearly three-quarters of Fódlan.

Byleth looked over at Claude with a raised brow. “'Leader Man'?”

“Hm? Ah, I guess you must have forgotten Teach,” said Claude, “As Duke Riegan, this not only makes me head of the House, but now yours truly is officially the leader of the Alliance.”

“If we had a more reliable leader,” chided Lorenz, “Perhaps the Alliance would not have been divided...”

“Think what you will,” Claude scoffed, “All I need to know is if you're in, or you're out.”

“I'm happy to lend a hand,” said Leonie, “I won't let those Imperial dogs set foot in Alliance territory. I couldn't bear it if my village got caught up in the chaos of war.”

“I'll fight too!” resolved Raphael, “I've gotta protect my little sis!”

“I will join as well,” added Lysithea, having already decided the moment Claude had suggested they go to war. “After all, House Ordelia was once dragged into an Imperial revolt. It ruined us.”

“Ah, of course,” glumly replied Lorenz, “I understand your motivation.”

“I'll fight too,” said Ignatz, adding his voice to the growing chorus of confirmations. “It's time to take responsibility for my own future!”

“I...” said Marianne, building up her courage, “I don't want to run anymore. I hope I'll be of use to everyone....”

Ignatz pumped his fist. “We can do anything if we work together, Marianne!”

“And what about you Lorenz?” asked Hilda, sounding as if she had made up her mind long ago. Or that she didn't want to stand out as the only one against the idea. “Are you going to go back home to your scary father or what?”

“We cannot rely on Claude's 'scheming' to lead us to victory,” Lorenz noted, “Therefore, I will remain. It is my duty to ensure Claude does not worsen the situation in the Alliance.”

Lysithea couldn't help but roll her eyes. It seemed after all this time Lorenz still bears no warm feelings toward their leader. Still, she did have to admit that he did make for a good foil to Claude's nature.

“All of us are fighting for a different reason, but we share a common enemy,” Claude continued. “If we don't act, the Empire will crush us eventually. I say we stop them before they have the chance!” Claude then looked over at Byleth. “So, Teach... will you help as well?”

Byleth did not answer immediately as Lysithea might have thought. Instead that worrying expression returned as he covered his mouth and went deep into thought. She could only speculate what was running through his mind as the eight of them waited with bated breath. It was a big decision to be made despite everyone's rather quick affirmations, having had to endure the burden of Fódlan being at war for nearly five years even though they did not actively participate. Yet it was almost puzzling why he had to consider it. He had the power to tip the odds against the Empire, not to mention that she and the others, his students and friends, had already agreed.

Byleth lowered his hand and turned to Claude, expressionless now. “I'd rather search for Rhea than fight.”

Lysithea's eyes went wide at his decision, and had she not had the self-control she does now, her jaw might have dropped too. He didn't want to fight? Granted he didn't have any obligation too, after all he was not affiliated with the Alliance apart from his connection with the Golden Deer, but why would he prioritize finding Lady Rhea over ending the long war? There had been no word of whether or not she was even still alive, and the Knights of Seiros had certainly never made any declaration as to her return. Whereas the Empire was an immediate and noticeable threat to everyone, and all of them knew that. Their homes and loved ones were under the Empire's shadow and thus it had been an easy decision to make when Claude suggested it. And she figured that with his students entering the war that he would want to resume the role he had before as their leader. And if she were being honest, a part of her also joined in because she anticipated him doing so.

The others around her seemed to hold similar regards as they stared incredulously at him.

“Professor!” Leonie was the first to speak up, “You can't be serious!”

“Fighting battles wouldn't be the same without you, Professor Byleth!” added Raphael. “You gotta come with us!”

“Yeah, professor!” Hilda protested, “Even I've decided to support Claude's little scheme here. It wouldn't be right for our hardworking and dedicated professor to bow out when we need him most.”

Lysithea decided to make it a little more personal. “The Empire brazenly vandalized your home, professor! Don't you want to take revenge for what they did?!” She didn't want to go that far, but her desire to have him be here to guide them as he always did surpassed that.

She noticed his fingers twitch subtly, but otherwise he didn't appear to be swayed. “Rhea is the head of the church. She should be the one to lead the war effort against the Empire. And she has answers about my past that I must know.”

“All the more reason to join us,” said Claude, the only one who didn't act surprised. “Admit it. You're not going to be able do much on your own. Besides, with Rhea missing that makes you the current head of the church, and with you on our side the church will join as well. That makes fighting the Empire a moral cause, which means it will be easier to rally support.”

“I must agree with Claude,” confessed Lorenz, “Having the church allied with the Alliance would bolster our chances of success.”

“Please come with us, professor,” said Marianne, “Being at the monastery and fighting in battles would not be the same without you.”

Byleth glanced down toward the floor as his brows creased in uncertainty. “I...”

“Above all,” Claude continued, “Your knowledge and strength are indispensable if we hope to stand a chance against the Imperial army. Without you, my schemes are nothing. Just words. You're a quicker thinker than I am, and with the Sword of the Creator your power is unrivaled. Having you with us would help to ensure that we all went home safely by the end of this.”

Lysithea blinked at Claude's admission. He let it out as if to remind Byleth of how important he is to Claude's plans, but to just hear their leader say that aloud showed her that he was more humble than she realized. Perhaps he had actually matured over the course of the five years since she last saw him. She suspected being the leader of a dysfunctional Alliance during the middle of a war could do that to anyone however, but it was nice to see the change in him of all people.

“So what do you say, Teach?” Claude asked again, this time sincerely. “Will you come with us and lead us into battle just like old times?”

“Does anyone else here that?” questioned Ignatz to all of them. Admist their begging they had not heard it before, but once they quieted down they could hear what sounded like a thundering of armored footsteps approaching the cathedral. Lysithea tensed up as her instincts started to kick in.

“It sounds as if we were followed after all,” she said as they all turned toward the entrance.

“Prepare yourselves,” Byleth ordered and the cathedral was filled with the sounds of their weapons being drawn and adopting their battles stances. Abigail leaped out of Marianne's arms and joined them, her fur bristling and tail fluffing up, for what little she might contribute. Lysithea had not expected to be fighting again so soon, but if the Empire had been watching them this whole time, then this would be a perfect opportunity to begin her own chance for revenge against them.

What they were met with, however, was not the Empire's troops. Instead numerous men and women in white armor were being led into the cathedral by some familiar faces, only two of which were wearing similar armor to them. She could tell immediately that they were the Knights of Seiros and a number of the church staff too. Unfortunately once their group came into view they drew their weapons and readied themselves for a confrontation.

“Who are you to-!” called the green-haired man that was leading them. Seteth was still wearing his blue robes, the very same she remembered him wearing back at the monastery, and his weapon, the Spear of Assal, shimmered in brilliant cerulean as he directed it at them. He had not changed one bit in the five years since she last saw him. Before he could finish, a green-haired girl in student attire came dashing away from the group, her face lit up in joy as her eyes fell upon Byleth. “Flayn, wait!”

Flayn, the final member of their group, rapidly approached Byleth, barely giving Abigail any time to dodge her. She flung her arms around him, wrapping him up in a tight embrace. Byleth appeared startled for a moment at the sudden contact, but otherwise did not shrug her off and instead tentatively returned the embrace. Lysithea could not help but feel a twinge of jealousy at the display.

“Professor!” she chirped as she gleefully looked up to meet his gaze. “It is so good to see you again! My brother and I were worried about you!”

“Hello, Flayn.” he replied, smiling a bit at seeing his final Golden Deer. “I'm glad to see you too.”

Flayn dropped her arms and blushed slightly at realizing what she had just done. She had not changed at all since Lysithea last saw her. Her hair was still styled into spirals that went down the sides of her head, her Caduceus staff was strapped behind her, and she still wore the same Officer's Academy uniform. The only difference was the surprising display of affection, and she worried that Seteth would have something to say about it. “Ah, forgive me professor. I was so excited to see you I may have perhaps been too hasty in greeting you.”

Byleth shook his head. “I don't mind. Do you recognize the others here?”

Flayn did a quick survey of those around him and continued to hold her smile. “Yes, of course! I could never forget the faces of my friends from the Golden Deer House. I hope that all of you have been well during these last five years.”

“We have, Flayn.” answered Marianne, smiling at the girl. “We're glad that you are doing well too.”

“And with that,” Claude commented. “The Golden Deer reunion is complete.”

The rest of the knights and staff by this time had sheathed their weapons along with the Golden Deer and they too hurried over to meet up with the former students. Once they recognized who Byleth was, much of the staff's faces were mixed with either shock or relief.

“Can it be?!” Seteth asked, his face and tone part of the former. “You were alive all this time?!”

One of the knights she recognized, Alois, came up to Byleth and gave him a similar bone-crushing hug that Raphael gave him prior, lifting him off his feet slightly as he did. Byleth grunted in strained pain as the air was forced out of his lungs.

“Ah, thank the goddess!” he exclaimed. “I couldn't bear the thought of letting Jeralt down by not finding you!”

“Can't... breathe...” Byleth wheezed as he was crushed, the force on him magnified by Alois's armor. Upon realizing what he was doing Alois let him go and proceeded to dust him off as Byleth tried to recover.

“A-apologies, Byleth,” Alois chuckled nervously. “I must have gotten carried away.”

“Guess you lucked out.” said the honorary knight, Shamir, who had been next to Alois. She was the only one who could compete with Byleth in stoicism and it was on display here. She too was wearing the same outfit Lysithea remembered her wearing from her days at the Academy. Notably, unlike many of the knights her outfit appeared in excellent condition.“You're full of surprises, aren't you Byleth?”

“We've been looking everywhere for you!” explained Catherine, one of the only knights among them that was not wearing a helmet. Her signature sword, Thunderbrand, was slung behind her back, and apart from a few dents here and there on her armor, she looked none the worse for wear. She scanned the Golden Deer and sighed in disappointment. “But... I see Lady Rhea isn't with you. Damn...”

“Everyone was real worried about you, professor,” said a man that Lysithea took a moment to try and recognize who he was. He had a leather pauldron over his left shoulder that was strapped around his torso, and strapped opposite to it was a quiver stocked with arrows and a bow. He was wearing a teal shirt underneath a ashen robe that was split into two sides and held together by strips of leather. His hair was as unkempt as ever, and was the only other person in the room with tanned skin. It was the skin color that ultimately gave away who he was.

“Cyril?” said Claude, as much surprised to see how much he had grown as she was. Much like her, Cyril had grown taller since she last saw him and appeared to match her height. “Is that you? You've grown up kid. Have you been looking for Rhea with the knights?”

“Of course. Without Lady Rhea, I don't belong anywhere.” Some of the knights and staff appeared crestfallen upon being reminded of their failure to find her.

“Cyril, that's not... never mind. We'll figure it all out.”

“Oh my,” commented Professor Manuela, the former songstress studying the former students and looking quite pleased at the sight. “The Golden Deer House is together again at last. And all grown up!” She glanced over at Flayn for a brief second. “Well, for the most part.”

The older gentleman among them sighed. “I do regret that we were never able to hold a proper graduation for all of you students.”

Lysithea looked over hesitantly at Professor Hanneman. Their last conversation together had not ended well, what with him not fully grasping the enormity of her situation and instead treating her in a similar, albeit lesser, manner as the same people who experimented on her. He had only seen her as something to be studied to further advance his own understanding of Crests, not once considering her own feelings on the matter and not acknowledging her own efforts in her endeavors. It finally led her to admitting how precious little time she had left, and he was now the only other person who knew such a fact. They had not spoken since.

“Why are you here?” Byleth asked suddenly.

“It has been five years since Lady Rhea disappeared.” Seteth explained. “We have devoted all of our energies to finding her. However, without being able to set foot in Empire territory, we are at a standstill. We had hoped that perhaps the archbishop would return here on this day... that of the long-awaited millennium festival.”

“Unfortunately that doesn't seem to be the case,” remarked Claude. “Though, I don't suppose you had very high hopes in that regard. Even if she were able to return here, with the monastery in ruins, I don't think she would have felt safe enough to do so.” Claude glanced over to Hilda with a telling smile. “Right, Hilda?”

As if knowing exactly what he wanted her to do by the small act, she stood over next to Claude and clasped her hands behind her back.

“Yeah!” Her tone adopting the all too familiar way of convincing others to work for her. “This is an important location for the church. To think you've left it in such a state.”

“It's a danger to the locals too.” Byleth added, unknowingly playing into Claude and Hilda's scheme.

“That's true...” Alois admitted ashamedly. “Perhaps we've left it alone for too long. We've got to make things right!"

“I can clean this place up like new!” offered Cyril, very quickly inspired by the chance to get back to work. “It's not fit for Lady Rhea like this.”

“And Byleth's right,” Catherine remarked. “Leaving this place in ruins is a danger to the nearby villages.”

“Agreed.” said Hanneman. “There is also a great deal valuable literature here as well.”

“Then let's do it!” declared Ignatz. “If we all work together, we can restore the monastery to its original beauty!”

“We will require the aid of skilled craftsmen too,” commented Seteth. “I shall seek out any such individuals who are willing to return to Garreg Mach.”

“Fantastic!” beamed Hilda. “I'll figure out how to split the work and then we can get started!”

“Ah, hang on, Hilda,” said Claude. “There's still one last piece that we're missing. Teach here hasn't agreed to join us yet.” With Claude's reminder all eyes fell upon the man in question, who's hands twitched as he was put on the spot.

Lysithea forced down the pit in her stomach as she did. As much as she did want him to come with them, she hated how Claude was putting so much pressure on him in front of everyone now. It reminded her too much of how she wanted to keep the knowledge of her twin Crests secret and to avoid being a showpiece for others. It had already happened once before with Byleth when it was discovered he bear the Crest of Flames, and for Claude to do so now to coax him into joining them in his little scheme was simply uncalled for. Which only made her ashamed to be aiding him in this obvious display of peer pressure.

“What do you mean by 'join us'?” asked Alois.

“Before you all arrived,” began Claude. “We were just discussing about us taking the fight to the Empire, and since the church is already at war with them I figured we're all allies in our resistance against them, right?”

“The church is at war with the Empire,” Catherine admitted, “But let's be realistic. Wouldn't it be better for the whole Alliance to submit?”

“It would, but with the way the Alliance is split that will be impossible... for now. The way I see it, the emperor wants to take over all of Fódlan and destroy the existing order of the world. The pro-Empire faction wants to believe she won't invade and let them continue to be vassals, but I just can't see her allowing the Alliance to continue to exist. We're in this just as deeply as you are. We were hoping to use this place as a base. The Empire begs to be meddled with, and we're first in line.”

“What?” Alois asked dumbfounded. “Why would you want to make your base here of all places?”

“Garreg Mach is situated in the center of Fódlan,” explained Claude, echoing it from before. “Both geographically and spiritually. We want to secure this location while the Empire is overlooking it.”

“I see.” mused Catherine, nodding. “The Empire doesn't see this place as important at the moment because it's far from the front lines.”

“But,” Claude continued, “If we simply decide that it's ours to occupy, that does nothing to inspire the hearts and minds of the people of Fódlan.” Claude looked over at Byleth. “Luckily, good ol' Teach has finally returned to us. If the professor Rhea entrusted with the Sword of the Creator fights at our side... well now. That's a just cause anyone could get behind. What's more, working alongside the legendary Knights of Seiros smacks of divine providence. Can you feel it?”

Seteth stepped out of crowd and approached the two leaders. “I hear what you have to say Claude. And you Byleth? What do you have to say?” When Byleth did not answer immediately again, Seteth went on. “On our own, we lack the sufficient military strength to find Rhea, but with the help of the Alliance it would be possible. The archbishop said if anything should happen to her, that we should entrust the affairs of the church to you. If you intend to fight alongside your former students and the Alliance, then I will follow you as well.”

“As will I, Professor Byleth!” Flayn chirped.

“Same with me.” added Shamir. More voices from the knights and staff added to the growing confirmation of following him into battle. Lysithea was beginning to feel more inspired knowing that it would not just be the eight of them doing battle with the Empire, but that all rested on Byleth's decision.

“_Come on professor. We need you.”_

Byleth scanned the entire crowd as they affirmed their desires to continue their war with the Empire. He looked at the staff he had recruited to aid him and his students, each of them nodding their heads in determination and smiling to varying degrees at him, with Alois giving him a thumbs-up. He looked particularly long at her and the rest of his former students, the people who had come to respect and admire him a great deal since he first began teaching them. Finally, he looked at Claude, who gave him a wink and rest a hand on his shoulder, a brief and surprisingly genuine smile appeared on his features as he did.

Byleth closed his eyes for a moment as everyone awaited his decision. When he opened them, she could read his resolve as easily as a book.

“I will fight the Empire.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we have it! After some hesitance from Byleth, the war is back on and the Alliance and Church of Seiros will now be jointly working together. In the game I was a little surprised there wasn't an option for Byleth to just leap at the chance to lead his students again, and instead it sounded like he was prioritizing learning the truth about himself over fighting a war. While still shown here, there is another reason why I have him showing some reluctance to his decision, but that will be revealed later (though it is touched on in chapter 2).
> 
> Chapter 5 will (hopefully) be out sooner than this one, and that will almost exclusively be focused on just the main pairing, so look forward to it!


	5. The Curse of Crests

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The joint Alliance-Church Resistance is formed, and now everyone must prepare for the battles ahead by restoring the monastery. Lysithea awaits an evaluation session with Byleth while she laments on how her Crests have narrowed her opportunities in life, yet refuses to fight for the one who wants to change it all. They continue to weigh heavily on her, but will she ever tell the one person she trusts explicitly about what they're doing to her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took longer than I would have liked, but then it shows in the word count! xD At this point long chapters like this are something of a feature of mine. But hey, that just gives you more to read, right?
> 
> Also I would like to apologize for how long these chapters take. I tend to have a lot going on in these and as a result they do take more time to pump out. I will try to lessen the time between chapters, but I won't make promises.
> 
> Not much more to add here, so just sit back, relax, and enjoy!

Lysithea was busy sweeping away the thick layer of dust that had caked her desk during her five year absence, particulates kicking into the air, clumps scattering away as she brushed her feather duster across the surface of her desk. Once they hit the floor it was a simple yet tedious matter of sweeping them with her borrowed broom and out the open doorway that let in the chill of winter. She was glad for the shawl her mother provided for her as an addition to her dress. Her otherwise exposed collar would be feeling the bite of cold had she not.

She had not been looking forward to cleaning her room after five years of vacancy and the grayish tone that her furnishings had taken on was quite a sore sight to behold. It was to be expected with the whole monastery unoccupied during the gap, but it was still annoying. The first task she set herself for was to clean off her bed, which was still wrinkled up from restlessness about the then upcoming defense of the monastery. Her stuffed bear was likewise decorated in a gray suit and she took extra care to get every last speck off before hugging it, glad to see the Empire had not stolen it from her.

There were other tasks laid out for her to do later, but for the time being Byleth had ordered her and the rest of them to begin cleaning their rooms after years of neglect. Now that they were going to be staying at the monastery for more than just the day, it was prudent of them to make use of their living quarters once more. Lysithea couldn't help but feel nostalgic upon entering her old room again, despite how unkempt it was. So many hours spent here in private, meticulously completing the written assignments her professor laid out for her, some of which designed with her talents and knowledge in mind, as well as delving into her own research. She counted herself lucky that some of the unfinished work she had to leave behind was still in their proper place, but she wondered if she would be able to return to them now, what with her priorities shifting to war preparation.

Once the surface of the desk was cleared she began sweeping them out of her room. She was still trying to wrap her head around everything that had occurred within the past couple hours. For so long she had to keep her head down along with her parents in order to not make their vassalage any worse for either her parents or the rest of the Alliance. It was vexing to her that House Ordelia was once again under the watchful eye of the Empire, and what made it worse was that she wasn't helpless about it anymore. She was eager to fight the Empire for some time, not only to free her home once again from Imperial surveillance, but to take revenge for what happened to her family and herself. So when Claude put forth the plan for the Alliance to finally engage in the war, it was an easy decision to join.

She was still wondering why Byleth had initially shown hesitance in his decision. He argued that Rhea should be the one to lead, but Seteth's confirmation of Claude's note of how he was the one in charge of the church made that argument hollow. It was more believable about his desire to search for her and learn about his origins, a worthwhile endeavor that, under better circumstances, she was interested in knowing too. With the Knights of Seiros returning to the monastery with no luck, it only added further credence to Claude about how easier it would be to come with them.

Then she recalled his body language, that concerned look on his face and his hands twitching. Was there some other underlying reason why he was reluctant? It wasn't as if he was unused to combat, far from it, but war was far more deadlier than having to deal with groups of bandits. Perhaps he was unsure about his effectiveness at a much larger scale? That didn't seem possible. Leading an army was similar to leading them and the battalions assigned to them, which given their current situation was about the same as it was during that year. It had to be something deeper than that, but she couldn't put her finger on what that may be.

Regardless of his reason, he ultimately did agree to join them. She had felt the tension in her fade away as he joined in their fight against the Empire. The firmness in his voice and the resolve in his eyes only served to steel her own along with everyone else. Knowing that he would be around to guide them just as he had before was a great comfort to her. She had to agree with Marianne: fighting in the war would not be the same without him.

She took a moment to gaze outside and breath in the crisp winter air. Once everyone had joined the effort the first order of business was to begin restoration of the monastery. While Seteth and Flayn immediately began to reach out to potential craftsman, Hilda, in a somewhat surprising fashion, took the initiative to assign the responsibilities to everyone. Cyril and many of the knights were already hard at work clearing away rubble and debris, and repairing what furnishings they could. Shamir had taken some of the archers that were with the knights to hunt game to begin preparing for lunch. Alois and Catherine were given a squad of knights to search the storehouses to find anything of value for the war effort from weapons to provisions. Manuela and a group assigned to her were to begin preparation for lunch in the dining hall, and Hanneman with a few monks were cleaning away the floors of the various buildings.

Byleth had agreed to Hilda's management, but when it came to the Golden Deer his mind had already been at work. All of them were at the present moment cleaning their rooms, but once they finished they were instructed to do what needed to be done. The greenhouse was devoid of plant life, yet what was left behind made for good fertilizer, so assuming that the storehouses still held seeds, Marianne and Ignatz were assigned to restoring the greenhouse and planting the seeds. Leonie and Claude were to join Shamir in their hunt, and with Claude's wyvern it would make their job much easier. She and Lorenz were to begin cataloging what supplies were available currently, and Raphael and Hilda would be aiding in clearing away rubble, much to the latter's chagrin.

Before they were to do any of that however, Byleth wanted to meet with them one at a time at the training grounds to evaluate their skills and see how much they had improved since he had last seen them. Though he had seen a short preview of each of them during the relatively brief fight in the city, it did not compare to a full demonstration. While he had not chosen any particular order for them, he had wanted Hilda to go first since she could then return to her managerial duties and aid the knights in their clearing. Or at least that was what he said.

Stepping back inside, she went over to the one of the shelves that lined the back wall and set to work on it. She in particular was interested in demonstrating the new spells she had learned since she had last seen him. Hard at work as she was to help her father govern her territory and lay the groundwork for her family's dissolution, she had not been idle in keeping up with her training. When the chance was available Reginald had assisted her with keeping in practice with her original repertoire of spells, but whenever she discovered something new she would first test it out alone before trying it with him, albeit while restraining herself as not to harm him too much. He could surprisingly take them well, but he was not able to quite match the sort of skill and tenacity that Byleth had. Despite his own training and physique, Reginald was never a mercenary and could not match her professor in challenging her.

She glanced back over to her stuffed animal and a calming wave flowed through her. She considered herself fortunate that the Empire had not stolen Sherman as they vandalized the monastery, and she had long since wanted to return on her own to retrieve him, but thought better of it due to the state of the Alliance. He was the only physical reminder of Byleth that she had, and she had regretted leaving him behind in her haste to escape the battle with the others. Now it was simply a happy coincidence that Sherman was still here, and she could rest easier knowing that he would be at her side while she slept once more.

Her hand had stopped its rhythmic motions and she instead smiled at her bear. She recollected when Byleth had given it to her all those years ago. He had not done so in-person, but indirectly. One evening she found a carefully wrapped package at her door as she was returning from the library before it became dark. There was no card attached to the top so she did not immediately know who it was from, and for a moment she thought it might be a childish prank Claude was pulling on her. When she gave it a few shakes and did not hear anything respond inside, she proceeded into her room and unwrapped. To her surprise, Sherman was inside with a note held in its paws. Having seen his handwriting before, she knew it was from Byleth, and it was a gift from him to show his gratitude for her hard work and assistance with practicing his tactics.

She had been stunned to say the least. No one had ever given her a present before save for her parents. It was far better than the lilies he had given to her on occasion, the likes of which had long since wilted and died, and somehow he discovered that she had a weakness for stuffed animals. Her own bed back home had two of them, and they provided some much needed comfort during the night to help her ward off nightmares. She lacked that shield when she came to the monastery, so to have one here was of great benefit to her.

Ironically Sherman paled in comparison to the note he was holding. It was written in his usual curt manner, but what few words there were meant a great deal to her. She had been praised by him before about her determination toward her studies and training, but to show gratitude for it and working with him on his tactics? No one had ever thanked her like that before. She remembered sitting on her bed, staring and reading the words repeatedly. Someone she held a high respect for had expressed how grateful he was for her efforts, and for the first time she felt that she was of true value to someone that deeply mattered to her. Her heart had fluttered upon reading his words, and it made it all the more special that they were written down to always been reread and not simply spoken and lost to the wind.

As she reflected she realized it was through that gift that she discovered she had feelings for the professor. His advice was always so helpful, and never once had he talked down to her as though she were a child. He challenged her in ways that were more advanced than the others, assigning her more difficult homework, and always sought to bring out the best in her. He had been the only one to recognize that her talents were from her own efforts, and not simply because of the boon her twin Crests offered. Yet it wasn't until she could see the words clearly that she came to realize the depth of her feelings for him went beyond just respect.

Which made it all the more painful that she could not act on those feelings. No matter how much she wanted to, she chose to never reveal them before for the sake of her education during her year at the Academy, though she had come close one night during the Academy Ball. Now she was no longer his student, she was a fully grown woman and need not worry about the taboo of a student being in a relationship with her teacher.

Still she did not, nor would not, act. Her time was growing closer as the days wore on, the maximum threshold of her short life approaching. Romance was out of reach for her, meant for those who could stay with their partners for many years and live out their lives together. All that would happen with her would be to leave her's and have her own lover looking on helplessly as she died, unable to stop the inevitable. She couldn't do that to anyone, least of all him. He mattered too much to her to be the one responsible for hurting him like that.

So she continues to bottle up her feelings, just one more aspect of life denied her by her tormentors. If it meant preventing any further heartache for him, then so be it.

In the moment however, she was still coming down from the relief and contentment she felt upon being reunited with him after thinking him dead all these years. She yearned to at least hug him, to show him how much she missed him, but doing so would be a threshold she dared not cross.

She turned her gaze over to Sherman and set her feather duster down. The tan plushie with a mint bowtie and beady, black eyes stared back at her, his gaze as empty as the professor's. It may be just a toy, but it was one gifted by him, and now the only physical object from him that remained. He did remind her of Byleth, and her desire to embrace him in the city ruins upon their reunion had not left her.

In an instant she decided on a compromise. She approached her bed and pulled Sherman away from the corner of her bed. She brought up Sherman and met him eye to eye, his legs dangling down as she held him underneath his arms. He was still as soft as she remembered him to be, but the chill of winter made him cold to the touch as his “fur” poked out between her fingers. She brought him into her chest and wrapped her arms tightly around him.

“I missed you so much, professor...” she whispered into his round ear.

“Um, I'm not interrupting anything, am I?”

Lysithea's eyes bolted open at the melodic voice behind her. She swung around to see Marianne standing at the doorway, hands at her side and looking at her with mild surprise.

“Marianne!” she exclaimed as a streak of pink grew on her face. She tossed Sherman back on to the bed, but not before he hit the wall with a muffled thud. “H-how long have you been standing there?!”

“I only just arrived,” she admitted before glancing over at Sherman then back. “I apologize if I startled you. If you want me to come back later, I can do so.”

Lysithea let out a sigh, not realizing she was holding her breath. “No. If you came here it must be important.” She too looked over at the bear, but this time she went over to sit him up once more at the corner of her bed, taking care to properly place him and have his arms stick out slightly, inviting her to hug him again if need be. She tilted her head toward Marianne, the rose in her cheeks not having faded. “You didn't... hear anything, did you?”

“I did, but I couldn't make out the words.” She giggled a little, and it was still as cute as Lysithea remembered it. It had only been once, but to hear the once negative girl laugh had an unusual way of easing her. “I'm sorry, I don't mean to laugh. It's just that I never expected you to possess a toy, or even hug it like that.”

“A toy, Marianne? You make it sound so childish.” She wanted to be upset about the description, but she was still disarmed by her laugh. She finished with Sherman and corrected her posture. “If you must know Sherman is not even my first plushie. I have two more in my room back home. They're a tremendous help in getting me to sleep.”

“Do you have trouble sleeping, Lysithea?” Marianne asked, puzzled and with her head tilted to the side.

Lysithea nodded. “I do have a tendency to stay up late into the night. Having them around helps me to fall asleep quicker and be ready for the next day.” That wasn't the entire truth and she knew it, but she did not want to delve into the other reason. Everyone else had enough to worry about without needing to know her issues.

“Oh! I'm glad it's nothing serious then.” Marianne looked down at the floor, a gesture Lysithea was all too familiar with. “I wonder if that would have helped me too...”

“You have trouble sleeping, Marianne?” she echoed, raising a curious eyebrow.

Marianne nodded solemnly. “I've had nightmares for quite some time, in truth ever since I was little. I would... rather not recall all the details, but there was one that occurred frequently.”

“What was it about?” She almost didn't want Marianne to go on, she herself already uncomfortable with going into particulars about her own nightmares, especially after partially lying to Marianne. Yet her curiosity was getting the better of her, and Marianne didn't seem to mind sharing at least this one.

Marianne played at her fingers. “I'm... in the middle of a forest. It's dark out, and the trees are so thick they're hiding the moonlight. I'm... being chased by something monstrous, I can hear it thundering toward me, but no matter how fast I run it never goes away. At some point I trip on a root, and it's suddenly right behind me.”

Marianne began to shiver as she got closer to the end of her recollection. “I-It's looming over me, but it's not attacking. It tells me th-that my time has come and that I will soon join 'the pack'. That's when I look down at my hands, a-and... and suddenly th-their slowly turning into hideous claws. Just like...” She brought he hands out, palms facing toward her. “Just like a Demonic Beast's. That's when I scream and-”

“That's enough!” Lysithea commanded. She had approached Marianne by this point and planted her hands firmly on her shoulders, staring at her with piercing eyes. “That's enough, Marianne.”

Marianne stared back at her regretfully, a tear forming in the corner of her eye. “I'm sorry, Lysithea. I didn't mean to-”

“No, I'm sorry, Marianne.” Lysithea shook her head, before backing away slightly. “I let my curiosity get the better of me and instead I caused you to delve into something painful. Having nightmares such as that could cause anyone to be distressed. Believe me, I know what that's like...”

Marianne wiped the tear away. “You do?”

“I wasn't being entirely truthful about what I said earlier,” Lysithea confessed, her hands balling into fists. “I too suffer from nightmares, but instead of being chased by a Demonic Beast it's far more... graphic and invasive than that.” Lysithea wrenched her eyes shut as the images started to flood back into her mind, her memories returning of that awful time she had to endure years ago. Her stomach began to churn and she felt her skin grow clammy as she remembered those strange mages looming over her, scalpels and knives at the ready and...

“Is it because of your Crests?”

Lysithea's eyes shot open and stared back at Marianne in shock, her mind immediately snapping back to reality. “How did you know?!” Her voice was an octave higher than she wanted it to be.

Marianne smiled a little, glad that she guessed correctly. “It's the same way with my own. If it wasn't for my Crest, I don't believe any of it would be happening.”

Lysithea gazed at Marianne in a dumbfounded manner. She had known about Marianne's unknown Crest for some time now. With how often their group fought together, it was inevitable that the others would learn about each other's Crests. Upon discovering Marianne's, Lysithea could not help but be curious about its origins as it was not a Crest she was familiar with. However she thought better of inquiring about it. She, more than most, knew what it was like to wanting to keep her Crests hidden, and if Marianne was never forthcoming about her own then she presumed that the cerulean-haired woman was also keen on maintaining its secrecy.

What she did not anticipate was Marianne likewise suffering to some extent from her Crest in a similar manner to her.

“It seems we both have to suffer for the 'gift' that we carry...” she uttered glumly. “But it would certainly explain why you always had bags under your eyes.”

Marianne knitted her brows and focused on a random spot on the ceiling, but her eyes were distant. If she was going to say something else, she chose not to.

“They have been occurring less frequently in recent years,” Marianne explained. “I guess I have you and the others to thank for that.”

Lysithea nodded. “I noticed that you have made a remarkable improvement in your disposition. Honestly I was surprised at how much you had changed since I last saw you Marianne. You look and sound more confident than before, but what do the others and I have to do with it?”

Marianne looked directly at her. “For much of my life I spent my time alone with animals, always trying to avoid other people so they wouldn't have to be burdened by me. I tried to do that here at the Officers Academy, but that was far more difficult to achieve with so many people around no matter where I went. All I wanted was for the others to stay away and not worry themselves with me.”

“Then Professor Byleth came into our lives. I don't know what I would be like now if it were not for him, but I know I would not have grown as much as I have without his aid. It was through his kindness and encouragement that allowed me to accept the warmth of others as the months went on.”

“I suppose my words to you about the need for growth resonated with you, huh?” Lysithea beamed.

“I did take them to heart, yes,” Marianne smiled. “Although not immediately I'm afraid. Still, I am grateful for them, and that you are my friend, Lysithea. Thanks to you, our friends, and Professor Byleth, I'm a stronger person than I used to be. My Crest still weighs heavily on me, but for the sake of everyone else I will not let it control me.”

“If only it were that easy for me...” Lysithea murmured as she averted her gaze to floor in melancholy.

“Huh?”

“It's nothing,” Lysithea assured her, though her heart wasn't in it. “I am glad to see you're doing better though, Marianne.”

“Thank you, Lysithea.”

A warm feeling spread throughout Lysithea as she looked upon her friend. Marianne was not someone she expected to have a sort of kinship with. While she could never know the torture of bearing two Crests, she knew what it was like to be haunted by them, unable to escape the hold they had on her. The biggest difference was that Marianne's troubles with her Crest were only mentally, and with the right outlook on life could be overcome as she had demonstrated today. Lysithea could not outrun the inevitable fate that would befall her in a few years time by simply being more positive and accepting of others. She accepted that for some time now, but it was at least comforting to know that someone else understood how horrible a Crest can be, and she was happy that at least Marianne could move forward with her life.

A moment of silence rose between them before Marianne let out a gasp and clasped her face. “Oh! I'm sorry! I forgot the reason why I came here! Professor Byleth wanted me to tell you that he's ready to see you next.”

“I assumed as much when I saw you,” she answered. “I'll make my way there now... unless there was anything else you wanted to say?”

“Not that I can think of. I should hurry though. My room is still in disarray and it may take some time before it's neat again. I've never been very good at cleaning.”

“Do you need any help?”

“You're kind to offer, but I would like to try and improve myself in that area. However if I do, you will be the first to know.” Lysithea smiled in acceptance to which Marianne reciprocated. As the latter turned to leave, she looked back over her shoulder. “And Lysithea? Thank you for listening. It was nice to be able to share that nightmare with someone who understands what it's like for a Crest to do that.”

“I feel the same way.” Lysithea's eyes suddenly went wide. “And if you wouldn't mind, could you keep what you saw to yourself? No one can know about me hugging a stuffed bear, or else I'll never hear the end of others calling me a child for doing so.”

“I will,” Marianne nodded. “I promise.” With that Marianne took her leave and headed off to her room on the floor above, leaving Lysithea to stare away as her friend left. She looked down at the floor and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Never thought Marianne and I had something in common...” she mused with a sad smirk. It was rare for her to feel connected with someone in such a way, and it was relief that there was someone else among them that could empathize, at least partially, with what she had to go through. Lysithea found herself feeling just a little bit closer to Marianne, though she wish it were on a subject more lighthearted than their Crests tormenting them. She was at least glad that Marianne was doing much better than she had ever been before, and she did feel a small modicum of pride that she had a hand in it. Letting out a content hum, she made her way to the door and stepped back out into the cold, crisp air of the monastery.

The air had only become a little warmer than it was, but nowhere near enough for her to forgo the shawl still cloaking her otherwise exposed collar. A few clouds had started to patch the sky, thin and wispy like streaks of yarn bundled together. Judging from the position of the sun, it was approaching the eleventh hour of the day and soon the luncheon hour would come. She had to assume that it would be an almost strictly meat-filled meal, something she knew for sure Raphael would enjoy to his delight, but not so much her, and she had little hope that the knights could find the ingredients needed to bake something to go along with the meal. Perhaps as time went on that was likely to change.

As she made her way up toward the training grounds, she took the time to gaze higher up at the monastery buildings. Much of it was superficial, pockets of brick and mortar blown out here and there, broken benches and shatter cobblestones meant more to deface and shame rather than any attempt to tear down altogether. It still all seemed so unnecessary. The battle had already been won by the Empire that day and had other pressing matters to attend to. Yet she had read the manifesto issued to all the noble families in Fódlan regarding her plans for the nation, and Edelgard made it quite clear about her displeasure with the Church as could been seen on near every surface she looked at.

Edelgard... she found herself sympathizing for what the emperor was fighting to establish. She had a deep understanding of how Fódlan's Crest-based society was the cause of so much misery for far too many people. For most, not having a Crest meant that no matter how much they excelled at their chosen field, they were less likely to achieve a suitable role in favor of someone who had one. Others were condemned to living life as commoners only meant to serve those who had Crests. Even for those who did carry a Crest some of them either cared little for it or actively despised them for what they did to their lives. And she knew better than most what it was like to have Crests be the focal point of one's existence. A Fódlan without Crests was an idea she wanted to see come to fruition, even if she would not live long enough to be a part of it.

The manifesto did little to dissuade that sympathy. While Edelgard was an enemy and her word was therefore subject to scrutiny, even Lysithea found herself agreeing with the former's attitude toward the Church. She had read the tenets of course, not out of any sort of devotion but more out of need for confirmation, and the scriptures stated clearly that the Church did not condone the actions of the nobles and how they abuse their Crests to enrich themselves. Yet the Church continued to perpetuate the system, and Lady Rhea did nothing to enforce that decree. She knew more than most that the Church needed to be reformed, or at the very least needed a change in leadership, and Edelgard seemed to believe similarly though to more of the extreme of dismantling it entirely.

But her sympathies did not extend much further. Despite her intentions, Edelgard was using unsavory methods for accomplishing her goals. Using Demonic Beasts to bolster her forces, when the reality was that they were commoners or soldiers, forced to be sacrificed to achieve her goals. They were working with the allies of Solon and Kronya to possibly perform even more Crest experiments on unsuspecting victims. That was just what she knew for certain; Goddess only knew what else the Empire was performing. She never wanted anyone to suffer through what she had so many years ago, and the fact that the Empire and those they were aligned with were doing so churned her stomach. All under Edelgard's watch, especially considering...

Lysithea frantically shook her head and clutched it. No, that thought was too horrible to consider. It just wasn't possible. Surely the Emperor would not have taken leave of her senses completely.

She found herself at the doors that led to the training grounds, as big and imposing as they always were. One of them was about halfway open so she slipped inside and prepared herself for what was to come.

The grounds was a massive rectangle, stretching out on either side to allow for multiple parties to practice either melee, ranged, or magical combat. The resting areas that surrounded the center were supported by numerous columns holding up a surprisingly still intact roof that once shaded those either taking a break from their routine or to review techniques with their colleagues. The training area itself was unprotected which meant that any sort of ill weather could easily cut short any session a student had in mind. Professor Byleth was one of the few who either didn't mind inclement weather or used it as an opportunity to further train the students for when environmental conditions were less than ideal.

It was almost impossible to tell whether or not the source of the damage here was from the Empire, from the recent bouts the professor must have had with the others prior to her, or from the students that formally attended before war broke out. There were fewer cuts across the columns than the rest of the monastery, but here there were more in the way of scorch marks from spells either gone awry or missing their intended targets. Otherwise there was no debris laying around like the rest of the monastery, though she was sure Byleth would just incorporate that into their session were it the case.

The man in question was a little further down off to her left, hunched over a training dummy and standing it back up among its companions, twenty total. From where she stood she could see still others off to the side, broken and battered from the other Deer that were tested before her.

He was back in his old mercenary garb, his coat-like cape flowing to his motions and the Sword of the Creator bobbing on his waist as he adjusted the dummy he was focused on to face him before moving over and adjusting the next. It was nostalgic to see him back in his usual outfit, one that he always wore even during his lectures as though always prepared to fight when least expected. Considering how often her class had to deal with bandits running amok in the countryside, or in the case of the monastery being infiltrated more times than she would have liked, it was prudent of him to do so.

As she came to approach him, he did not turn around to face her, so engrossed in his task he was.

“It's my turn now, is it?” she greeted him, trying to get his attention. Byleth rectified himself and turned to meet her, the faintest of smirks grazing his cheek.

“Yes,” he stated, his face otherwise unreadable. “I'm just making sure everything is in order before we begin.”

Lysithea's eyes wandered over to the pile of busted dummies she noticed earlier. “Safe to say the Empire did not raid the supply room for the training grounds.”

“Fortunately, no.” Byleth took a moment to scan his display of dummies. Half of them were aligned going across the grounds, evenly spaced together. The remaining half were further down in a discombobulated pattern, all of them being at random distances from them. Nodding, he turned back around to Lysithea. “Are you ready?”

“I'm eager to show you my progress, professer,” she answered with a grin. “What's the plan?”

“These here,” he motioned at the line of dummies closer to them, “Will be used to review your spells. I want you to first use the ones I'm familiar with, and then new ones you've learned in my absence.” He held his hand out to indicate the other half of them. “You will then demonstrate the range and radius of your spells, first by your own power, then...” He walked over toward the right and disappeared briefly behind a pillar. When he came back, her eyes flashed as she instantly recognized the staff he was carrying. “With Thrysus.”

“Lorenz is still willing to part with it?” she asked in surprise, not taking her eyes of the Heroes Relic.

“He understands that you are more proficient with it then he is,” he explained. “However in exchange he will be using the Axe of Ukonvasara.”

“The axe you brought back with us,” indicated Lysithea, earning a nod from her professor. “I presume one of the knights fought with it during the battle five years ago?”

“According to Seteth, yes. I will have Lorenz put it to good use.”

“Agreed. It is better in our possession anyway, and not some lowly bandit.”

Byleth sheathed Thrysus through his belt and stood off to the side to give Lysithea some space and prepared to observe. “When you're ready, Lysithea.”

Lysithea stepped back a few paces and focused on the left-most target. Channeling her mana through her body, violet magical circles surrounded her feet, spiraling in opposite directions as she recalled the incantations of her most basic spell. She thrust her hand out, and the black orb of a Miasma spell launched from her hand at startling speed, blasting apart the dummy when it hit dead center, hay and splinters sailing in all directions. Not wasting a breath, she slung her other arm in front of her and hurled another orb at the next one, meeting the same fate as its partner.

Moving on to the next two targets, she stretched out her hand and extended her fingers. With a yell she conjured a swarm of magical insects that clouded over both dummies and, without anyway to defend themselves, were ripped and torn apart. Under combat circumstances the bugs were still able to wound her foe, but not to the same length as these. The insects still acted as such, and the spell was more designed to slow a group of foes down as to not be suddenly overwhelmed. Being unable to resist the Swarm, the dummies had no chance of surviving the onslaught.

The next duo would endure one of her more stronger spells, one that required far more focus than the previous two. The first two spells she had already mastered by now, and she barely needed any time to recover with only an inconsequential tingling in her nerves. Extending both hands out, she gritted her teeth and drew forth her mana all through her arms, feeling a slight pressure everywhere else. Her hair began to wave somewhat as her power unleashed itself, and a pale orb appeared above the first dummy and began to pull weakly at its victim, vacuuming the dummy toward it, but not enough to lift it off the ground. Translucent waves of moonlight cascaded and enveloped the target, disintegrating its sack first, followed by the stuffing inside until all that was left was just its wooden skeleton.

When she finished, she took only a brief moment to recover before she moved onto the next two. When she had first learned the lunar spell she had to use it sparingly as it tended to drain her after only a couple uses. It drew more magic out of her body than most other spells since it called upon her own reserves rather than relying solely on the incantation. Now with time and practice, she was better able to quickly prepare herself for her next foes. She glanced over to Byleth who was standing as still as a statue, with arms crossed over his chest. Nodding in satisfaction over her improved recovery time, she returned her attention to the task at hand.

Upon the next pair of targets she moved on to a spell that had proven useful against the dreaded Death Knight in addition to the occasional foe that thought they had an advantage with a mount. She lifted her hands above her head as mana flowed from her legs to her arms and she sneered as her power radiated. Numerous dark spikes manifested and hovered over one dummy, then the other, pointing directly at their bodies before suddenly diving into them. They plunged themselves deep inside the sack, hay spurting forth from the wounds before both were flung into the air with the subsequent explosion. While more designed to swiftly deal with cavalry, the spell was still lethal regardless of what the intended target was.

For the final two targets, she was going to demonstrate an entirely new spell that she learned and practiced for three years before finally getting the hang of it. It was the most powerful one in her arsenal, and she knew it was going to drain her worse than Luna had. Bracing herself, she balled her hands and called forth everything she had into her, mana coursing all through her body and even her blood started to accelerate. More ritual circles surrounded her on either side, her hair and dress billowing from the intensity, and everything in her vision seemed to vibrate as she concentrated her energies.

Once she reached her peak, she threw her arms up in front of her with a shout, and a cone of purple and black magic erupted at her targets, obliterating them where they stood. It lasted for only a few seconds, and through the hazy cone she could see the silhouettes of the dummies as they disintegrated in to ashes, the only reminder they existed apart from the scorch mark on the ground to denote where they used to be. She never once tried it on a person before, knowing what sort of effect it had on others and unwilling to test it on Reginald. A part of her dreaded when she would have to use it during the war.

She stood there a moment gazing at her handiwork, panting lightly as the Hades spell still put a strain on her despite her practice. She looked over at Byleth who was staring at the same spot with mouth tentatively agape and brows lifted.

“Impressive,” he complimented, though it came off as more of a statement.

“It is my most powerful spell yet,” she explained before her brows knitted. “Though I have yet to attempt to use it on another person, so I don't know for certain if it will have the same effect as it did on the dummy.”

“We will find out soon enough. Is that the only new spell?”

“I have one more to show you,” she smirked, “But I require your assistance with it professor.” Byleth cocked an eyebrow at the request, but heeded it none the less. He approached and stood face to face with her.

“What do I have to do?”

“Just stand still and close your eyes. Your body will feel a jolt as I cast this.” Yellow wisps enveloped her hand as she brought it to his chest while she began channeling once more. His chest was surprisingly warm, more than what she thought it should be for the average person, but then Byleth was anything but. Looking toward the side, she stretched out her arm and focused on the empty space there. “What will happen may come as a surprise, so brace yourself.” She lifted her other arm out and directed it at the empty spot. Her mana coursed from one arm to the other and into her fingertips. In an instant Byleth disappeared and materialized in the same pink beam of light that Edelgard had used to escape from the Holy Tomb almost five years ago.

When he realized the sudden shift in his placement, Byleth flicked his head from one side to the other, trying to comprehend what had just happened to him. He put a hand to his temple to try and collect his bearings before returning his attention to Lysithea, who was wearing a bemused smirk on her face, taking some pride in having stunned her professor.

“What... was that?” he asked as he slowly returned to her, still somewhat disoriented from the initial shock of being teleported.

“It's a spell simply called 'Warp',” she explained with a now confident smile. “As you have witnessed, it allows one to transport an ally from one place to another.” She brought her hand up to lean her cheek on it in thought. “Unfortunately the range for it is limited, depending on the strength of the mage using it. I could have sent you further, but since this is just to demonstrate it wasn't necessary.”

“I see. Still, a spell like that will prove useful if we can get in range of an enemy general.”

“You did always say to try to have the advantage of surprise in a battle. I think teleporting someone behind an enemy commander qualifies as such.”

“Assuming it is safe to do so. It won't do any good if they're flanked by guards.” Byleth looked past her at the remaining targets. “Now, show me how you have improved the attack range of your spells.” Byleth backed a few paces to give her some room while she turned to face her next task.

In much the same fashion as the first wave of dummies, she started with her basic spells and gradually moved down her list while Byleth stood nearby and evaluated her prowess. Due to her more powerful spells demanding more out of her their effective range was limited too, only able to reach the fourth target up. Yet with each cast she slipped back into the groove of handling the strain it brought on her and before long her Hades spell did not drain her nearly as much as the first time.

On the other hand her Miasma and Swarm spells, being her two earliest spells, were far more effective for the more distant targets. Demanding less from her, they were able to travel further with the same potency at the fifth and then sixth targets. It wasn't until the seventh one came around that the damage they caused was shrinking until finally the eighth target barely registered a hit.

“I'm glad to see you have kept up with your training, Lysithea,” he praised as he stood next to her, bringing a proud smile to her face as she tilted her head to him. “You have grown much stronger since I last saw you. Now let us see how well your new strength improves with Thrysus.”

Byleth slipped Thrysus out of his belt and held it before her. She took the staff in hand and gazed at the artifact with trepidation. She always wanted to rely on her own power rather than having to call upon her Crests for support, despite how beneficial they were to her performance. Yet at the same time she also wanted to be useful to those around her, especially to both her parents and to Byleth. So she found herself with mixed feelings whenever she had to use it during battle.

On the other hand Thrysus was one of the rare cases where she was glad to have the corresponding Crest associated with it. A Heroes Relic, a powerful tool used by the Ten Elites of legend, and Byleth had entrusted it to her. At first an errant thought crept into her mind that it was only because of her Crest, but she quickly thought it untrue. He could have just as easily given it to Lorenz. It would certainly make sense given that it was his House's family heirloom, but instead he had chosen her to wield it. It became a confirmation to her that he valued her hard work and determination, and understood that Thrysus would only help to boost said skills so as to better aid him and her friends. The day she was entrusted with the staff was a highlight of her time at the monastery and in her relation to her professor.

Deciding to clutch onto the feeling of gratitude rather than glum, she tightened her grip on the tool.

“It's been some time, hasn't it Thrysus?” she whispered to it. The creststone answered with a hum as it pulsed, accepting her Crest and causing the head to glow the familiar orange that all Relics were seen to have. She could feel her adrenaline pumping as the Relic transferred its power into her, and her mana swam through her body to match its pace. Her hand and sleeve shimmered for a brief moment, and she felt a tingling sensation in her body as the Crest of Gloucester found its way toward her hand and that was when she knew that the transference was complete.

Renewed with vigor, she stood in line with the eighth target again and this time Hades found its mark, obliterating it in much the same way as it had the others. This time she did not have to take a moment to recover and immediately moved onto the ninth, where Hades was only able to throw the target back even further than it was before. She took this as an opportunity and hurled another ball of Miasma at it, the orb traveling at a more furious speed then before and blasting it to bits. Finally, she moved to the final target, and imagining it was the Death Knight, thrust her arm out with a yell and manifested Dark Spikes above it. The dummy was thrown into the air by the resulting explosion and flew straight out of the open roof.

Lysithea took a few deep breaths to try and calm the flow of mana and adrenaline. She could start to feel her body sweat from the amount of effort she put in so far. It truly had been some time since she had used the Relic and she had nearly forgotten that initial rush when first activating it. She would have to swiftly grow accustomed to it again if she were to be a participant in the coming battles ahead and not lose herself to its power.

“What do you think, professor?” she asked, turning to face him. He appeared to be impassive for a moment as he absorb the display she put on, before smiling satisfactorily.

“You have not lost your step,” he replied, trying to sound proud of her but it continued to come off as monotone. “You have been keeping up with your training and it shows. I'm proud of you, Lysithea.” He placed a firm hand on her shoulder, realizing his tone and deciding an action would be better to convey that feeling.

Lysithea blushed slightly at his touch, feeling his gloved yet rough hand on her covered shoulder. It was rare for him to display such a gesture, and while she knew she was not the only one to have received it, it brought up those lingering feelings dormant in her heart.

“Th-thank you professor,” she stuttered, and suddenly the cold air around her didn't seem as much now. Her face scrunched as she tried to control herself. It was nothing more than a simple gesture she thought to herself, something any teacher would do to show their pleasure at a student's progress.

Noticing her face, Byleth removed his hand. “I'm sorry. I did not mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“N-no!” she replied, appalled that she was giving the wrong impression. “It's not that professor! It's just... well...” Her cheeks became warmer now as the pink in them deepened. Byleth tilted his head slightly to the side with a curious brow raised, and it did not help her at all. Sometimes he could be so dense, and yet with his head angled that way she could not help but find it endearing. Still, she needed to salvage the situation while not leading him on down that path. “I'm just... very happy to hear you say that. You're the only one who ever praises me that way.”

“Ah, I see. Well, you deserve to be commended for your efforts, Lysithea. Any student should be.”

“Even though I'm not your student any longer?”

Byleth cupped his mouth and hummed. “That's true. You aren't anymore. Sorry, I'm still getting used to all of this.”

Lysithea shook her head. “It's all right, professor. Anyone would be shocked to wake up after five years and see how much everyone has changed. We may have all grown since you last saw us, but deep down we're still the same people you remember from before.”

“I know. I could never forget you or the others.” The way he had said it Lysithea was sure there was more to it than that, but before she could inquire further Byleth had moved behind the pillar in front of her and promptly returned with two wooden swords and the Sword of the Creator absent. “There is one last test to do before we're finished. I want to see how much you have improved in your swordsmanship. I did not find any Levin swords in the storage room, so for now we will stick to practice swords.”

Lysithea looked at the sword being offered to her. Swordsmanship was a subject that Byleth excelled at, and in fact was one of the best she had ever seen. Everyone that Byleth taught at the Academy inevitably went through some form of training with him on how to wield a sword, and she was no exception. To her surprise, she discovered she had a budding talent for the martial art that was further honed by the so-called Ashen Demon, who encouraged her to take what he taught her and develop her own style that best fit her. A Levin sword was ultimately the sword of choice on the matter due to its magical capabilities, and when combined with her own magic it made for a deadly combo. When she demonstrated it to Byleth, she remembered how impressed he was about her style, and soon afterward they began to incorporate it into her frequent training sessions with him.

She did her best to hide a grimace. She was ashamed to admit that swordplay was not a field she spent more time to improve on, but would not do so in front of Byleth. That was not to say she fell out of practice with her style, Reginald wouldn't allow that, but it just didn't feel the same without her professor being the one to oversee her progress. He was, after all, the one who introduced her to the art, and after he died it only became a reminder of his absence. Now that he had returned however...

Lysithea took ahold of the hilt. “I assume we're sparring then?”

“Correct, but no magic for now. I only wish to see that you can still hold your own in a duel. If we can procure a Levin sword, we can resume where we left off before the war began.” Byleth stepped away a few paces toward the front of the grounds and adopted his fighting stance, and she assuming her own. A moment past as she cleared her mind and relaxed her muscles, just as Byleth taught her. He did not move the whole time, and Lysithea surmised that he was waiting for her to begin, and likely only to play defensively. It was just a testing session and he perhaps didn't want to risk an injury while everyone was still needed to help rebuild.

Silently she dashed toward him, thrusting at him when she came into range, only to be parried easily though he made no counterattack. Her free hand was behind her, clutched in a way that would have already had a spell charged should this have been a real fight and retaliated quickly upon such an obvious display, a feint really. Instead she only shadowed the move, which Byleth anticipated having dueled with her before and tucked and rolled away to her left. This was also a reaction she expected from him, and luckily he had dodged to her left or else he would have been blasted with a bolt of lightning with an actual Levin sword.

They continued on this routine of her going mostly on the offensive, though occasionally he would try to throw her off and make an attack of his own. The first time she got poked in the arm as a warning to remain aware, and she quietly chided herself for thinking he would only be on defense. Knowing that he could strike at any time put her on edge, but in a way the challenge brought on by the potential of being taken by surprise was exhilarating.

All the while she felt nostalgic while they sparred, bringing her back to the days at the Academy where, much like now, Byleth made himself available to help her with her training. He proved to be a valuable sparring partner both with sword and without, and his advice and critique on how to improve her form in both melee and magical combat was always welcomed. Others would only give out comments on how tough the spar was or would compliment her talents, useless drivel that did nothing to push her toward being her best. Not him though. It should have been expected from a professor, but he did not hold back on how to make her better, something she always appreciated. She had missed this for so long; sparring with Reginald just didn't hold the same appeal to her as Byleth did.

“Your form is as I remembered it,” he commented, but there was no hint on his face that showed he was complimenting her.

“I'm ashamed to admit it,” she winced before continuing her assault, “But I have not been giving as much attention as I should have on my swordsmanship. My time was consumed by improving my magic, and aiding my father in governing our territory.” She brought her sword down to which he blocked it in front of his face.

“We'll have to remedy that. If we're going to fight in this war, we can't take any chances.”

“I look forward to it, professor.” She thrust again, but was parried and quickly riposted. She parried his strike and they clashed swords. Then she saw an opening. “I'm surprised you hesitated to join us.” She swung her arm from underneath, but he saw it before hand and threw himself back. So much for the opening.

“I'm surprised you joined so readily.” he countered, and that opening was swiftly closed too. They thrust their hands out at each other and two non-existent spells collided.

She cocked a puzzled brow. “Why would that surprise you?”

Byleth dashed at her and she barely had time to react and bring her sword up to block. “Edelgard seeks to overthrow the Church and reshape Fódlan into a society that doesn't value Crests. I recall that you don't care for yours, and are aware of what they do to people.”

She bristled and grunted, both on the strain of her defense and on his words. He wasn't wrong. Edelgard was attempting to change the order of Fódlan, something that under any other circumstances she could support. If it were at all possible for the system they existed in to change so that the value of Crests diminished, it was a cause worth fighting for.

What was strange though was how he knew what Edelgard was seeking. Byleth never seemed too interested in politics, what with him having avoided it for all his life.

“Isn't that something you support?”

Lysithea parried his blade and he rolled backward before she could strike. “How do you even know what her goals are?”

He thrust his arm out and she countered with her own. “I have had tea before with her. On one occasion we discussed politics. That was when she told me of her dream about Fódlan.”

She sighed in defeat. “You're not wrong. With everything we discussed about Crests, and how I feel about them, it's logical to believe that I would support her. But that isn't true at all.”

“Why's that?”

“Professor,” she frowned. “It's rather obvious, isn't it?”

“You don't owe the Alliance anything.” He pointed out while lowering his blade.

Her brow furrowed at the statement and she bristled again. “What are you talking about?! The Alliance is my home!”

Byleth didn't budge. “You believe the aristocracy to be fools for supporting Crests. I believe you support the Ordelia territory and your parents, but not the other noble lords.”

Lysithea grunted. It was uncanny to hear her words being used against her, but what he said was true. She did not hold much love for the Alliance, not after they had all turned their backs on House Ordelia when it came under occupation eighteen years ago. Pleas for help fell on deaf ears as the Empire did whatever they desired to her family, including the torture that she and the other Ordelia children had to suffer for years.

“Then that should tell you why I chose to fight the Empire.”

Byleth tilted his head. “Because they threaten your parents?”

She nodded. “Yes, but it goes beyond that. The Empire stripped away my house's dignity, they took most of my family away, and... for the longest time I thought they took you away too.” Now it was her turn to lower her weapon.

“Me?”

Lysithea shivered, but not from the cold. “I watched you die, professor. You were always someone I looked up to, and then to see you get thrown into the valley by that mage... I thought the Empire took everything from me, but on that day I realized it was possible for me to lose more...”

She looked at him forlornly. Five years of having someone she cared about presumed dead and it was at last revealed to him. She always suspected that she would die far sooner than those around her ever would, dying on the battlefield notwithstanding. But he had seemed unstoppable, a force to be reckoned with no matter what sort of obstacle was put in front of him. Then to watch him plunge to his death in a matter of moments... she never thought she would be mourning someone else, someone she respected and admired. To have died before she did hurt far more than she realized. It was then she truly understood what her parents must feel about losing her.

“I see...” Byleth uttered ashamedly, having moved closer to her and after several seconds of only the sound of the wind above them blowing. He offered his free hand and Lysithea instinctively placed her training sword in it. The way everything steered, it was clear to her they were finished. “I'm sorry for not fully understanding how you felt about this.”

“I thought you were dead... for so long...” she whispered, looking into his eyes with sadness. It seemed to her that now was their proper reunion. So wound up in her joy to see that he was alive, she recognized that she never voiced how it affected her.

“I know nothing I can say will make up for that. Instead I will continue to watch over you and the others. I will do my best to not let any of you die.”

“And you had better take care of yourself too, professor,” she gently told him. “I don't want to lose you again.”

He smiled warmly at her. “You won't. I promise you that.” He walked back over to the side and stowed away the swords. As he returned he looked upon the destruction she caused with her spells and nodded. “We will continue to work on your swordsmanship when we can. As for you're magic, you have improved greatly since I last saw you. I'm glad to see you kept working hard to do so during my absence.”

Lysithea was able to make a small smile. “Thank you, professor. Even after all this time not everything about me has changed.”

“Your work ethic is part of your charm.” Lysithea was nearly taken aback by the offhand comment.

“P-professor Byleth!” She blushed at his words, yet if that was his attempt at a flirtation he did not show it, or perhaps he was teasing her? If so it was cruel, but she couldn't tell from his body language. His faced remained stoic and body as still as stone.

Byleth then pinched his chin as he gazed at her. “I have always wondered... why do you work yourself so hard?”

The smile on her face faltered and her eyes went wide. That was a question she had long hoped to avoid ever having to hear come from Byleth's lips. She furiously debated internally whether or not she should tell him the truth. It was her one of her deepest secrets, one that she had managed to blurt out at Linhardt and Hanneman years ago, but only because of how insistent they were, only interested in what her Crests meant for their research. Yet Byleth was now asking out of curiosity. He knew about her twin Crests, that much couldn't escape him with being her professor, but not their origins and what they were doing to her.

“Well...” she said slowly, but with resolve in her eyes. “You see... I... it is because... I am the only child of House Ordelia. I must do all I can for my family name. I'm determined to be of real value to my parents, and that day must come soon. The war stalled much of my efforts to do so, and I can't afford to waste any time. I don't have much of it left...”

Byleth raised an eyebrow, no longer curious but... worried. “What do you mean?”

Lysithea hesitated. She began to sweat more now in addition to what she had been during their bout. Her body felt the familiar heat of nervousness spread through her body like wildfire.

If anyone deserved to know her predicament, it was him. She held him up on the same pedestal as her parents, and they naturally knew her situation, better than anyone. She trusted him completely and had for some time now. There was never any judgment, no intrusion ever on his part, and unlike before with Linhardt and Hanneman, he was asking her permission to hear her tale rather than forcing her to or seeing her as just another object of research. Surely he should at least know the situation.

But then a memory crossed her mind. It was the look on her parents faces when they learned of just how long she had to live. It was seared into her mind like a brand, the look of despair when she overheard the news of her fate. She remembered how their faces only got worse as she wailed and begged for them to find a way to remove her Crests, only to be met with helpless silence. There was no known way to do so as no one in history had any desire to remove theirs. They tried to smile for her afterward, but many nights after the Empire left her home she could hear her mother crying down the hall, and she cried along with her.

Then she remembered Byleth's face, the same one he wore right after his father was murdered, the look of someone who just lost his only family. It was already awful enough to be reminded of her parents that way, but what made it so much worse was because of just who he was. For someone who never expressed emotion for most of their life, he looked absolutely devastated and it actually pained her to see him like that. Knitted brow, quivering lip, tears silently streaming down his cheeks, it was all somehow so much worse when he did it. She never wanted to see him like that again. It hurt too much.

“I'm... sorry professor,” she gently admitted. “But I would rather not say. Just... you don't need to worry about me, okay? I'm perfectly fine.”

“Lysithea,” he said, gently trying to encourage her, “If there is something bothering you...”

“I said I'm fine!” she responded more forcefully. She was looking at him dead in the eye with trembling hands. “You have more important things to worry about than my personal matters!”

Byleth recoiled slightly at her sudden volume, eyes wide with surprise, and she immediately wished she hadn't done that. She couldn't back down now though.

He frowned slightly at her, and it only served to deepen her regret. “Very well. If it's a sensitive matter, then I won't force you to say anything.”

“Thank you...” she muttered at the ground.

“You're evaluation is done now,” he stated, but she could detect the subtle hint of hurt in his voice. “Please send Ignatz to me so I can begin his own.” She nodded, and then left without saying one more word.

As she left she admonished herself for snapping at him. He didn't deserve that. After all he didn't know the true nature of her condition. It was a secret she did her utmost to preserve so as not to draw attention to herself. The uproar it would cause of an individual having two Crests would be an endless nuisance, and it would cause her parents no end of bother when scholars all across Fódlan would come knocking on their door asking to interview them or her. They had already been through enough; she had no desire to see them be bothered by inconsiderate scholars. She knew her professor would at least value the need for privacy on that matter, so why couldn't she tell him?

She knew the answer. She didn't want his pity. It would be the same reaction she would expect from everyone else that didn't have a scholarly interest. Empathetic words, wondering if there was anything they could do. She could only assume that it would be the same with him, only magnified to the same level of her parents, if not worse because of the face he would make upon hearing it. That same look of helplessness of how there was nothing he could do for his student, and she couldn't bear to see that face again.

So she made her way solemnly back toward the dormitories to find Ignatz and send him Byleth's way, keeping the secret to herself. The less people who knew about it the better. It would be less painful for everyone this way. Besides, it wasn't as if Professor Byleth could do anything to change her fate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So ends another lengthy chapter! And now Byleth starts to discover that all is not well in the world of Lysithea. You'll have noticed that the tail end of their B-support made its way in here, and that's on purpose. The way I have it in mind is that the first half of that support already happened in the Academy phase, and now here we have the rest of it in the War phase. This is done to setup a future chapter of mine that will bring it all out in the open in an alternative and far lengthier A-support between them.
> 
> I intend on writing a short(er) fic for Lysithea's birthday coming up in two weeks to celebrate it, but unlike before I will also, or at least try to, write out the next chapter for this too. So look forward to that!


	6. The Stray Eagle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fifth anniversary of Jeralt's death is here. Byleth and those closest to Jeralt take this time to pay tribute to the fallen Blade Breaker before returning to their preparations for war. Meanwhile, a familiar face and a former student flies in, and hits home at Byleth's personal goal and fear for the war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a month of completing my most recent one shot, chapter 6 is finally here! This is actually going to be a two-parter since the other scene I had in mind for this would end up making the chapter far longer than I would like (given my history I know how odd that sounds). And since it has been a while since I got to this, I decided to split this into two chapters so that I could give you all an update. xD
> 
> Also decided that I'm going to use this space as an indicator of what day and month it is in the story to keep from anyone who may lose track since there's going to be skips here and there in the timeline (something could be after a couple days, or a couple weeks, etc.)
> 
> Anyway that's enough of that. On to the story!

“I don't believe I told either of you of my first ever assignment with the captain,” said a baffled Alois, sitting across from his two companions. The three of them were lounging in a triangle formation in the graveyard. Alois held an ale in one hand with the other propping him against the cold, grassy ground with two empty bottles laying discarded at his side, having downed them fairly quickly and eager to move on to the next. Leonie sat with her arms across her angled knees, leaning in as though she were a child listening to her grandfather's riveting stories from long before her time. Her own drink was at her side, half empty and the only one standing among its two companions.

Meanwhile Byleth had not even started his second drink, the first held in his hand as he sat cross-legged next to his friends. He had never been much for alcohol, having only ever partaken in it whenever it was given to him by one of Jeralt's mercenaries. He saw the ill-effects of having one too many drinks brought to them, and on occasion had to deal with them when they were becoming far too rowdy. It happened often enough that he grew a dislike for the drink, but they weren't the only reason why he very rarely drank.

Today on the other hand was an exception, one where they were not drinking for pleasure or comfort, but more for the sake that the situation called for it. Alois even had the idea of including their absent fourth companion by leaving him a bottle too, where it continued to sit unused by who it was deigned for in front of the gravestone they were gathered before.

“I'll bet it was thrilling!” Leonie answered, leaning in just an inch closer on her legs. They decided that today they would gather here and share stories they might have of Jeralt and reminisce on the impact that he had on their lives. So far it was Alois regaling them of tales he had stockpiled away from his several years of being his squire. Leonie had become quickly enthralled by them, learning about her role model's exploits through the eyes of someone who was perhaps the only remaining person around them that could properly convery them.

Byleth for his part sat their silently, throwing in brief, faint smirks whenever they laughed. For the two of them they had plenty of time to grieve for his loss, but for him the pain of losing Jeralt was still somewhat fresh, only a few months to come to terms with it while they had years. The pain had subsided somewhat after Kronya was defeated, but the man responsible for preventing Byleth from saving Jeralt was still out there. The very same man that almost killed him too, saved only by the good graces of Sothis that allowed him to be here now. He could not find true closure until that man was dead, the one who took his father away from him, and the one who almost took Byleth away from his students.

Despite his grief upon the now fifth anniversary of Jeralt's death, he could not fully join Leonie and Alois in their merriment as they spoke of their time with Jeralt. They held such fond memories of the man who had such an impact on their lives, yet for Byleth he simply could not understand their admiration for him. Jeralt was an impressive warrior, that much he would admit, but not to the extent that they made him out to be. They had not grown up with Jeralt, had not seen what Byleth had. They never saw just how much or often he drank, spending much of their hard-earned money to drown himself and the rest used to prepare for the next mission. They did not truly know the man, and he realized some time ago, neither had he.

But Byleth had enough sense to not mention this, not wanting to ruin their mood, especially Leonie's. Their practice session yesterday had turned into a duel, with Leonie unleashing years of pent up frustration of believing he never appreciated her mentor like she thought he should have. She was soundly defeated by him, proving to her once and for all that Byleth meant what he said about her exaggeration of Jeralt's abilities. That defeat turned into a promise, the very same one that Alois had made for him soon after Jeralt's death, only this time the latter had requested Leonie to do it rather than have it be self-imposed like the former. Now Byleth had two protectors, and though he felt it unnecessary for them to do so, he was not about to disappoint them by dissuading them.

“Heh,” Alois chuckled. “I don't know if I would call it thrilling now, but back then I suppose it was exciting for me.”

“Well, what was it Alois? I'm dying to know!”

“Let's see...” Alois began as he cupped his chin. “It was about the time I was thirteen when Jeralt decided that I had been through enough training to bring me along for one of Lady Rhea's missions. The knights were being dispatched to the Galatea territory by request of the Count at the time. Bandits had been terrorizing one of his villages you see, and they were crafty enough that whenever his own knights arrived, the damage had already been done.”

“That's awfully convenient...” pondered Leonie, furrowing her brows. “They wouldn't know that unless they had-”

“Ah, ahem!” sputtered Alois. “Leonie you're getting too far ahead of my story here!”

Leonie recoiled. “Oh! Sorry, Alois! Please, go on.”

“Right. As I was saying, they were crafty enough to always give Count Galatea's knights the slip. And so the Count requested the Church to intervene where his knight couldn't. When we arrived, Captain Jeralt got the idea to have us stow the horses away and have us disguise ourselves as villagers.”

Leonie's face lit up. “Ah, I get it! They always planned on the Count's knights, but not the Knights of Seiros. So you hide and look like ordinary villagers and surprise them when they show up! That's Captain Jeralt for you! Always planning ahead!”

Alois chuckled haughtily. “True enough! I thought it left the knights vulnerable to the bandits' weapons, but the captain trusted in their skills and assured me it would work. As I discovered later, he brought the best under his command to make sure this trick would work.”

“So what happened?” she asked eagerly. “Were the bandits surprised by his idea?”

“Oh, you bet! When they arrived, the only villagers wandering around were myself and the knights. I wish you could have seen their faces when Jeralt and the others brandished their weapons and attacked them.”

“...Wait, the others?” Leonie inquired with a curious brow. “Were you not fighting along with them?”

Alois's expression turned sullen. “Well... you see, this was my first ever battle, and I managed to freeze in place the moment one of the knights killed a bandit. That... that was the first time I had ever seen anyone take another person's life, even if it was a bandit. I had a hard time trying to process that, but it was during that moment when another bandit saw me and came charging at me. When I heard him yell, my training kicked in and I blocked his blow with my sword. We clashed a few more times before I managed to cut the man across his chest. He didn't last much longer after that...”

The collective mood among them darkened, Leonie suddenly frowning and Byleth's flame waning a little as Alois trailed off, a fact that Byleth noticed immediately. It was the same look that some of the Golden Deer carried during and after their first mission in Zanado.

“That was the first time you took a life,” indicated Byleth. Leonie tilted her down, the words reminding her of her first time on that day.

“Yes... that's correct...” Alois answered solemnly. “Even today I remember what happened after that. All I could do was stand there like a statue and stare at the man I had just killed. Lucky for me all the other bandits were occupied with the knights and didn't notice me. It wasn't until after the battle that I was able to collect my senses.”

He looked up at the sky as his frown straightened out. “I felt a strong hand on my shoulder, and when I turned to see who it was, it was none other than Jeralt. Rather than scold me for not participating in the melee, he wanted to know if I was okay and gave me some words of encouragement. He understood what it was like for someone to kill for the first time, whether their opponent deserved it or not. I remember asking him afterward if what I did was right.”

“And what did he say?” Leonie questioned, having returned her focus.

“He said that we spared the village anymore hardship from their attacks, and that was something to celebrate. He also said that if I have the capacity to ask that question, then I would never turn out like them. So long as I continue to treat it as necessary rather than for the enjoyment of it, I would turn out okay.” Alois sighned in contentment. “That Jeralt... he may have been my captain, but it was times like those that make me realize that he was also something of a father to me.”

Byleth glanced over at the gravestone behind Alois, his last words striking him to his core. He didn't have those sort of memories with Jeralt like Alois did. He had no doubt his father loved him, but there were never moments like that between them. When he took his first life, it was without pause and without mercy. In their line of work, to hesitate was to die, to kill was to survive and as such no comforting words were exchanged between them. They didn't have the good grace of questioning their decisions like Alois could.

“Captain Jeralt was a great man...” Leonie added, mournfully. “I'll never forget the day when he first came to my village and changed my life.”

“Oh? I don't think you ever told me what that was like Leonie.”

Now it was Leonie's turn to look toward the sky as a smile grazed her face. “It was when I was fourteen years old. We were having trouble dealing with poachers, extorting us for money in exchange for them not killing us. It always made me so angry that there weren't enough of us to fight them off.”

Alois cocked an eyebrow. “Poachers?”

“It's just the word my village uses for bandits,” she nodded. “Anyway, one day Jeralt and his mercenaries arrived in our village seeking shelter for the night, and the village elders begged him for their help in driving off the poachers. To their surprise, he agreed, even though they didn't have much to offer him. They told him when the poachers were expected to arrive, and so he and the others stayed with us until that day came.”

“And how did that turn out?”

“It was unlike anything I had seen before!” she beamed, her voice growing excited from the memory. “The way he handled a lance was nothing short of legendary! The poachers never stood a chance against him! I even saw him use a technique that grabbed a poacher with his lance and sweep him around to knock down other poachers surrounding him!”

Alois's eyes widened. “Did he? Huh. I've never seen nor heard of him ever use such a technique before.”

“Huh. Weird. He must've learned that after he left the monastery then,” surmised the budding mercenary. “But watching him cut those poachers down was nothing short of amazing to me! I decided right there and then that I was going to be his apprentice and follow his example. He didn't stay with us for very long, but those were some of the best days of my life.” Leonie paused for a moment as she looked toward the ground, apparently deep in thought. Alois and Byleth looked at each other and silently asked what it was that she was thinking of.

“Something troubling you, Leonie?” Byleth questioned after a few moments, bringing voice to their wonderment.

“Sort of...” she answered without looking back at him. After another short pause, she met his gaze. “Professor, you're around the same age as me and the others right?”

“Yes,” Byleth nodded. “I learned from Jeralt's diary that I am twenty-one years old.”

At this discovery both of his companions eyes widened.

“So you always were the same age as us!” Leonie pinched her chin momentarily before grinning. “And I'm twenty-four now, which means I'm older than my own professor!”

“Well that's interesting!” Alois chuckled after taking a drink of his ale. “Maybe you should have been the professor for your class instead Leonie!”

Leonie blushed slightly. “I don't know if that would've worked out for me. I don't have nearly the same experience as Professor Byleth does.”

“I'm not even sure if I am twenty-one now,” Byleth continued, glancing at the ground. “It has been five years, and I don't know if I aged at all during that time.”

Leonie squinted at him. “I don't notice anything different about you. Well, besides your eyes and hair being a different color, but we already knew that.” She shook her head. “I'm getting off-track. So if you were twenty-one during the school year, and I was nineteen... that would mean you were sixteen when I met captain Jeralt.”

“Sounds right.”

She furrowed her brows. “Then I don't get it... I don't remember seeing you at all while Captain Jeralt was staying with us. You were with him at the time, right?”

Byleth shook his head. It made sense for her to presume that since he did spend most of his life in close proximity to his father. “I may have been on a mission during that time. He planned on having us lead his company together. I may have been in the field building up my experience.”

“'May have'?” Alois wondered in surprise. “You mean you don't remember if you were there or not?”

Byleth creased his brow ever so slightly in frustration, not so much at Alois's question, but at his inability to recall any exact dates of his prior mercenary life. “My memories are hazy. When we did a mission didn't seem important then. You likely wouldn't have met me anyway Leonie.”

Byleth didn't think Leonie's brow could be raised any higher, looking on at him in puzzlement. “Why not?”

Byleth could feel the flame dim a bit as he thought of his answer. “Father kept me isolated from others. I only ever interacted with the other mercenaries.”

His two protectors looked on at him in bewilderment, and he could practically feel their gazes upon him as he finally brought his ale to his lips again. The liquid was cold and bitter as it traveled down his throat, the taste clinging to the sides of his mouth.

“That's odd...” Alois mused, sitting up a bit more straight now. He pinched his chin as he thought on it. “I wonder why Jeralt would keep you isolated...”

Byleth now knew the reason why, but decided to keep that to himself. As before, he would prefer not to darken the mood, especially with Alois around. As a Knight of Seiros he had a high opinion of Rhea, but as a former squire to Jeralt he had a similar stance with the latter. Rather than take a chance to see if those opinions would clash, it was better to just leave the subject at that.

“He never told me,” he answered instead, and it was bitterer than the ale. While technically not a lie, he hated having to deceive others. Deception should be used for the battefield and not for interaction among friends. He had to deal with so much of it all his life as he discovered. Jeralt keeping his age and origins secret as well as his father's own secrets, Rhea with the information she had on his birth, her reasons for bringing him on as a professor, and the history of Fódlan, and finally Edelgard with her grand plans for Fódlan's future. In her case however, he knew what she wished to see, but he did not expect her to plunge the nation into war, or perhaps he did but not that quickly, nor did he expect her to be the Flame Emperor that worked with those responsible for his father's death.

Even now he still didn't know if he could blame her for Jeralt's death. Kronya appeared to be prone toward acting impulsively, and in one instance of it she plunged her dagger into his father' back. He knew who was directly responsible and she was gone, he knew who prevented him saving his father and he would find him. He had concluded that Edelgard knew nothing about Kronya's intent, but even so the emperor associated with them and he needed to hear her defense of it.

“Sounds like Jeralt,” Alois continued, having now placed his hand on his cheek in bafflement. “He did always seem to be hiding quite a lot about himself. I still don't understand how he managed to look the same as he did when I was his squire.”

“I still never learned how old he was...” Leonie mused aloud as she adjusted herself in her spot. “When I asked him he didn't give me a straight answer, just said that if he couldn't remember his own age he was too old to care.”

“Funny story about that. Many years ago we were at a tavern and he became so drunk he let the secret slip.”

Leonie's eyes widened and she spun her head towards the older man, as alert as though she were on the battlefield. “He did?! How old did he say?!”

“You might not believe this, but he said he stopped counting after one-hundred. And the thing was, he was telling the truth! Said that he was infused with Crest-bearing blood that expanded his life!”

Byleth heard this story before from Alois, but even now he felt that to be improbable. He knew his father bore a Crest, a Crest of Seiros that he had used many times over the years, and Jeralt's physical appearance never changed at all as far as he could remember. While it was one possible explaination for his lifespan, in all the time Byleth knew about Crests he never once heard them extending a person's life beyond normal years.

“Is that even possible?” Leonie decided to voice his inner thoughts. She looked dumbfounded on the revelation, likely not expecting that her hero was over a century old. “I never heard of anyone living longer because of their Crest.”

“I still find it hard to believe myself,” Byleth added.

“Well that's what he told me.” Alois shrugged, his armored shoulders rattling against themselves as he did. “When I asked him about it later, he couldn't remember that time. He had gotten so drunk he didn't even recall telling me that.”

Leonie chuckled. “Whether he was older or younger than one-hundred, one thing certainly didn't change at all for him: he never stopped loving to drink.”

“And it never stopped loving him too!”

Leonie and Alois had a hearty laugh, filling the air with much needed jubilation, but Byleth's slight smile was only from the infectious laughter. He did not find Jeralt's drinking habits at all amusing. If it was for the sheer pleasure of it before, then to him there was something else when he saw his father drinking. He never became violent, but it seemed more as though he were drinking his troubles away, and it put a cost on them too. Jeralt had unpaid tabs at various taverns over the years, and Byleth was unsure whether or not he inherited them. Moreover, the constant drinking that both his father and the other mercenaries did when their missions were complete made it so that they always desperate to find work in order to even feed themselves.

When he thought the coast was clear, he shook his head. A part of him believed that he was silently helping his father's addiction all this time, aiding him in an addiction. It was only until he came into possession of Jeralt's diary that he discovered the reason why. He drank not for pleasure anymore, but of sorrow over the loss of Sitri. His companions didn't know, nor would he tell them. Better to let them carry more pleasant memories of the man they so idolized rather than to have him ruin it for them.

After their haughty cheer, Leonie and Alois were able to calm down and sigh in contentment, taking swigs of their ale as they did.

“Look at us...” Alois said slowly as he scanned his drinking buddies. “Jeralt's squire, his apprentice, and his son. Coming together and having a drink in honor of his memory. I'll bet he never would have seen the day where such a thing was possible. I'm positive that he's looking down on us right now and is sure to be in 'high spirits'.”

Alois carried a wide smile on his face, almost proud of what he said. Byleth and Leonie could only look at each other, their own faces contorting to a mixture of pain and disbelief in varying degrees before Leonie buried her's in her palm. Byleth could feel the flame wavering to match the sheer disbelief that washed over him that Alois would make such a pun, but then he should have expected it. It is, after all, what he was known for. They both faced Alois while continuing to hold their displeasure at the bad joke.

“Too much?” he asked them, noticing immediately their less-than-stellar reactions and his smile disappeared as quickly as it came.

“Keep... trying, Alois,” Leonie encouraged with pity mixed into her voice. “You'll get there some day.”

Their reverie was broken by the sound of the cathedral's bell, its rings thundering across the entireity of the monastery and partially echoing off the valley walls that surrounded the grounds ten times. The flame returned to normal as Byleth stood up, stretching his legs out before collecting his still full bottles.

“It's time for the war council,” he remarked as he adjusted the necks of the bottles between his fingers. His companions followed his lead and stood along with him, themselves stretching and picking up their waste.

“You didn't finish your ale, professor,” Leonie observed in perplextion.

“Do you want them?”

She waved her hand. “No, no, I've had my fill. Wouldn't want to show up to our first war council drunk. It would be pretty embarassing and I'd never live it down.” Byleth nodded in response, glad for Leonie's wise decision. With how much she admired Jeralt, he could only hope that she would not follow his example to the letter.

“Well, let's get going,” offered Alois. “Best to not keep everyone else waiting for us.” With that the three of them began heading toward the stairs, but Byleth paused after taking only a couple steps. He swung around to look at the gravestone that Alois sat in front of, staring intently at the marble marker. He had yet to leave any flowers for his parents and until the plants in the greenhouse were able to grow it would continue to remain vacant of them. The flame diminished as he looked at the memorial to his parents.

He glanced at his still full bottles, and the flame grew as a thought came to mind. While it would be inappropriate for his mother, Jeralt would at least be able to appreciate a drink, especially from his son. Despite Jeralt's concerning love for it, he did nevertheless enjoy alcohol and it would be impossible for Byleth to deny that. He decided to pay his respects in the only way he had available. Taking one bottle out of his hand, he returned to the gravestone and placed it at the base. He hung his head and paused briefly for a moment of silence before going back and following his companions toward the reception hall to meet with the rest of the Golden Deer and knights.

“Professor!” He had only just turned toward the hall after ascending the stairs before he heard his title being called out from a distance. “Professor Byleth!” Byleth turned to see the gatekeeper sprinting toward him from the direction of the stables, waving his hand high in the air as he ran toward him. His blood immediately began to pick up its flow as the flame ignited, readying himself for troubling news from the eager guard. The gatekeeper managed to make it to him, but it seemed in his haste he forgot he was wearing armor. He rested his hands on his bent knees as he struggled for breath.

“Greetings...” he huffed in-between breaths. “Prof... professor... glad I was...”

“Catch your breath, gatekeeper,” Byleth told him. “You shouldn't be sprinting in your armor.”

“S-sorry, professor... I wanted to... catch you before... the war council started.” Byleth stood like a statue while the young man panted for air. While he couldn't fault the man for his enthusiasm, it wouldn't do anyone any good if he exhausted himself in the middle of the monastery's grounds. After several seconds passed the gatekeeper stood upright before him, a smile beaming on his half-covered visage. “I have something to report!”

“Go ahead.” he said with a subtle mix of curiosity growing in. It wasn't like the gatekeeper to leave his post in such a hurry. The man was anything if not dedicated to his position.

“A woman is waiting for you at the entrance, sir,” the gatekeeper began after standing at attention. “A very... attractive one at that. She has been insisting that she speak with you, but she wouldn't say why. Two of the knights are watching her right now.”

Byleth tilted his head slightly, now even more perplexed than before. They hadn't been receiving visitors owing to the fact that they were at war save for those that Seteth had managed to recruit to begin reconstruction of the monastery. It was a possibility that she would be a spy, but with it only having been a day since the reunion it was almost impossible that word of the Knights of Seiros' return to the monastery would spread to the Empire. It begged the question as to just who this mysterious person was.

“How was she behaving?” he inquired as he cupped his chin, his tone instinctively returning neutral. “Apprehensive? Nervous? Anxious?”

The gatekeeper rubbed the back of his helmet. “Anxious I guess. From the look of her she almost seemed worried about something, but she said she would only speak with you. We don't know whether she's a spy or not, so I thought it'd be best to run this by you and see what you think sir.”

Byleth glanced down at his feet. He could just order him to remove the woman from the grounds and that would be the end of it. Since this was wartime he couldn't afford to take any chances, not when the lives of his students and the knights were in his hands. They currently had the element of surprise on their side and with that advantage they could prepare for upcoming battles without any interruption, though he was not naive about that opportunity lasting very long. If she were a spy that would only help to hinder their mobilization while the Empire wasn't paying attention. He had to prioritize the safety of his students and the knights over satiating his curiosity.

On the other hand, whether he liked it or not he was the archbishop of the Church, at least temporarily. He now had to accept the same responsibilities that Rhea had, and that included not turning away those in need. If it was someone that was suffering greatly from the war, he had an obligation to take them in. Yet the war still weighed on his mind, and he couldn't afford to be too generous. Any number of those proclaiming to be faithful to the Church could just be a ruse in order to gain entry and learn of their plans.

He closed his eyes and hummed. A mental debate wasn't going to get him anywhere, and he had a war council to attend. He let his arms fall down to his sides and stared intently at the gatekeeper.

“I will see her,” he replied, his expression unreadable. “And listen to what she has to say.”

“Yes sir! Follow me sir!” The gatekeeper turned on his heels and the two of them proceeded down the walkway, underneath the archway that ran from the knights' hall and connected to the reception hall. Knights posted at various points stood at attention as they passed them by, Byleth only glancing at them and nodding without breaking his determined pace.

They passed into the stable yard where one of the squires was leading a horse toward the water trough. A number of the knights had brought horses with them when they returned, all of which were once more barricaded and tended to by a few of the squires that had come with their mentors. One of those at work was Cyril, already having to clean out the stables of the horses' waste and would soon after prepare to feed them soon as their lunch time came near. Cyril notice him walk by and gave him a wave, a gesture Byleth returned as he passed by.

As they rounded the corner to turn toward the entrance, Byleth was met by a network of scaffolding that climbed to near the top of the small pavilion they were in with a couple of villagers at its apex hard at work repairing the damage to the stone walls. He had to admit at how surprised he was that Seteth was able to recruit craftsmen so quickly, with some having shown an eagerness toward it. Even with Edelgard slandering the Church as greedy and self-serving some still held onto the latter's teachings and supported it, having leaned on it during the difficult years as the war dragged on. Fear and uncertainty led many of them praying to the goddess that she would deliver something that would end the war, and with the return of the Knights of Seiros it brought them hope for the first time in five years.

When they stepped out onto the stairs leading to the still barren marketplace Byleth could see the woman in question standing behind two of the knights and giving one of them a scathing look, a far cry from the supposedly anxious attitude the gatekeeper described. She was wearing an extravagant crimson dress that was split down past the waist revealing a maroon skirt. A large, silver waistband was wrapped somewhat tightly around her that propped her ample bosom up, and a white fur shawl covered much of her shoulders and chest. Her chocolate hair draped over her shoulders and came down toward her chest like two gentle streams. Though she dressed far more ravishingly than he remembered seeing, Byleth could recognize the woman even without the hat she wore during the school year.

“All I'm saying,” Byleth heard the knight she was glaring at say, trying to sound enticing toward her. “Is I could take you to him now for just one little kiss.”

“And here I thought the Knights of Seiros were supposed to be chivalrous,” she retorted, her melodious voice sounding cold and condescending, and Byleth noted a hint of exasperation. Her emerald eyes glanced to see him approaching and her frown turned to a smirk. “Perhaps I should tell him how one of his knights is setting a bad example for the rest of them.” The knight and his partner swung around only to see their leader and the gatekeeper standing close behind them.

“Y-your Grace!” the lecherous knights stammered. Though Byleth couldn't see his face he had to imagine the man was sweating underneath his helmet. “This lady was demanding that-”

“I heard what you said,” Byleth cut him off, his voice firm and brows furrowed as he crossed his arms across his chest. He saw the knight's fingers twitch and his body tense up, his skin likely going pale. “You will be reassigned a new post at the stables, effective immediately. Report to the knight at the northern entrance and have them replace you.”

“...Yes sir...” he answered ashamedly, a child being punished by his parent. The knight trudged by them with slumped shoulders as everyone's eyes followed him until he disappeared around the corner. The woman finally relaxed and she rested her hands in front of her waist.

“And you?” Byleth asked the remaining knight, his eyes relaxing somewhat but still holding onto their firmness, silently persuading him not to lie.

“N-nothing from me, Your Grace!” he replied with the same sort of conviction as his now former partner. “I followed your orders from start to finish!”

Byleth's face softened and this seemed to put the knight at ease. When the woman didn't change expression, he nodded at the knight. “Good. Return to your post then.” The knight bowed and walked under the portcullis and stood off to the side. Byleth then turned his attention to the gatekeeper. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I will take it from here.”

The gatekeeper grinned. “Yes, Profes... uh I mean Your Grace! Let me know if you need anything else!” The man turned and walked back up the steps to resume his position next to the entrance hall. Byleth flashed a brief smirk before turning to meet the woman's gaze, who was now smilingly warmly at him and brought a faint smile back to his face.

“Hello, Dorothea.” He greeted the former Black Eagle as though she were another one of the Deer here to attend the reunion, the flame soothing him as he was once again graced with another student's presence, glad that her life had not been claimed by the war.

“Hello, Professor Byleth.” Her voice returned to its more sultry tone, but Byleth could now hear that it was not exasperation that was in it but rather... weariness. It was subtle, but it almost sounded as though her voice had... aged, and not just because there was a five year difference. “It was hard for me to believe when Seteth told me you had returned, but my eyes are not deceiving me.”

Byleth's eyes widened slightly and he reminded himself to be cautious. Despite being a former student, she was still a citizen of the Empire. “Seteth visited you in the Empire?”

Dorothea shook her head. “Not exactly. He came to visit the village I was hiding away in nearby, looking for people interested in restoring the monastery. I recognized him and asked him if it was because they found Lady Rhea. He told me that you had returned instead after all this time. I'm glad to see that he was right.”

“I was sleeping for five years.” He could see the growing curiousness in her face, the same one that the Deer had when they wondered what happened to him during his absence.

“Sleeping?” she flinched. “For that long? Professor many of us thought you were dead! You can't just say you were sleeping for five years and make light of my worries like that!”

Byleth could understand why she would be upset. Having been as popular as he was as a teacher, many of the students, including the ones in the Black Eagles and Blue Lions, looked up to him and sought him out for assistance, even though Hanneman and Manuela were also available. “I wasn't trying to. I'm still not completely sure how I survived that fall. I don't have a clear answer.”

Dorothea sighed in defeat. “Well, if you don't exactly know what happened to you then I guess that's that. I'm sorry for getting worked up. I didn't come here to scold you after all.”

“It doesn't bother me. I understand if you would. I... did leave all of you, even if it wasn't my choice.” Byleth paused for a moment as he recalled something she mentioned in passing. “You said you were hiding away in a nearby village?” She nodded, though Byleth noticed it was slower than he would have guessed. “What happened to you?”

Her brows knitted as she looked at him, several years of memories coming back to the forefront of her mind. “A lot. Things weren't easy for the Black Eagles after the Church lost the Battle of Garreg Mach.”

The flame died down in his chest as she said that. Ever since awakening he had wondered what became of the Black Eagles who defied Edelgard and instead stood their ground and defended the Church rather than join in her assault. “Did you join the Empire's military?”

“Not voluntarily. During the battle we were captured and brought to her. I thought she was going to have us executed for what we did, but instead she offered to spare us if we joined her in the war. I think the only reason why she did that was because we were her former classmates.”

Byleth raised a brow. “Why do you say that?”

Dorothea tilted her head down and frowned. “Edie's... changed since the war began. She was always a focused woman before, but over time I noticed her becoming... colder to others. As if any interaction with her was just business and never an opportunity to let her hair down. I know that sounds silly for someone to do during a war, but you know what I mean.”

Now it was his turn to knit his brows. He always did know her to be a relatively no-nonsense sort of person, but there were times when he was around her that she did seem to ease up a bit and relax. To know that she had become colder ever since the war started made his flame do so likewise. Despite what she had done to the monastery, his home, part of him still wanted to believe that he could reach out to her and talk her down.

“You spoke with her then?” he pressed. With the way she described her situation it didn't seem like Edelgard would be interested in talking with someone who effectively betrayed the Empire.

“On occasion... but those sessions never lasted very long.” She hummed mournfully to herself while her frowned deepened. “It seemed like I was less of a friend at that point to her and more of a... familiar soldier I guess would be one way of putting it.”

Byleth could see and hear just how much these last few years weighed heavily on the songstress's mind. Though he couldn't relate per se, having a friend cast you aside in such a way was something he hoped to never have to experience himself. He wondered then when he were to see Edelgard again. Would she throw away their relationship too as though none of it ever mattered? Or might there still be a way to reach out to her? The idea of killing a former student didn't sit well with him, even if she was his enemy now.

“What became of you and the other Black Eagles after you were conscripted?” he inquired.

She looked back into his eyes, worry etched into every part of them. “I don't know. While I was in the army Edie kept the six of us separated. Sometimes I was assigned with one of the others, but most of the time I was among many unfamiliar faces. Even now I'm still not sure why she did that. I guess it was just another way of punishing us for defending the monastery.”

She seemed to shiver slightly, and it didn't appear to be from the cold. Byleth could only wonder what was going through her mind as she recollected her time in the Empire's military. Whether it was fear of the other Eagles's fates, or for being treated as just another soldier by someone with a familiar face he couldn't say. One thing he felt certain of was his sympathy for the brunette, with how much she must have had to endure all these years.

“As for me,” she continued after a short pause, “I was assigned to a regiment that invaded the Kingdom, or at least the former Kingdom territories anyway.” Dorothea reached up and gripped her shoulders tightly. “It was horrible, unlike any of the missions we had to do at the Officers Academy. At least during those we had to deal with bandits, people that threatened innocent lives for no purpose at all. But this was war. The people we were fighting were just defending their homes from us!”

She brought her hands down and turned her palms upward. She looked shocked as she stared down at them, almost disgusted with herself. “I've taken so many lives with these hands, professor. Not a day goes by that I don't still hear the screams of the soldiers I've killed or lay awake at night wondering how their families must feel.” She looked back at him in horror. “And what's worse, Edie still uses those Demonic Beasts. Can you imagine what that's like? Fighting alongside those things, knowing just how they were made? The people who were sacrificed and turned into monsters?”

Her voice had started to shake as she spoke, her eyes glistening while recounting the company she kept in her battles. Byleth reached out and gently placed a hand on her shoulder, his eyes softening as he returned her gaze. She took a few careful breaths to compose herself, soothed by his caring gesture.

“I cannot imagine it,” he admitted while trying to sound as empathetic as possible. “It's a fate I wouldn't wish upon anyone.”

A brief smile flashed on her face before she continued. “After two years of fighting, I couldn't take it anymore. Everything I've done and seen, and... no one to talk to about all of it... it was just too much. So one night, I sneaked out of my tent... and ran as far away from it as I could. I just couldn't be a part of it anymore.”

Byleth retracted his arm as his eyes flashed at her bold and risky action. “You deserted and have been in hiding ever since.”

Dorothea nodded slowly. “It's been a miserable three years since then. I've had to sleep with one eye open most of the time. I've been afraid that Edie sent soldiers to find me so they could drag me back to Enbarr and... I don't even want to think about what she would do to me.”

“You mentioned you were staying in a nearby village?”

She nodded again. “I was lucky to come across it. They were sheltering people that had been injured as well as some children who had been orphaned because of the war.” She bowed her head. “When I saw them all, it reminded me of the people I killed, and I swore that I had to do something to make up for what I did. So I took care of the orphans and helped to heal those that were injured with my magic.” She looked back up at him with a sad smile. “I guess learning faith-based magic paid off after all huh?”

“You always did have potential as a mage.”

“I just hoped to never have to use it the way I did. I know what you're going to say, that that's a reason why people attend the Officers Academy, but you know that it wasn't my reason. I wanted to find someone who I could fall in love and spend the rest of my life with... not to become a soldier in an army.” She looked at him with defeat in her eyes. “This rose once had petals on it professor, but now there's only thorns left.”

Byleth continued to sympathize with the songstress; her trauma from her battles was an understandable consequence. It reminded him somewhat of the Golden Deer's second mission when they had to put down a rebellion led by Lord Lonato. They were shaken with having to kill not bandits or cutthroats, but ordinary people that were rallied by the late noble to join his cause, fruitless as it was. In that time he accepted it as just another facet of life and how heartless it could be at times. For his students it was their first time killing people that before then were just living their lives. Even then he found it more appropriate to not say what was on his mind about the harshness of life and instead reassured them about preventing it from escalating further. Nowadays he found himself taking on their point of view of how they don't have to get used to it. He never enjoyed killing, but he never felt anything about it until recently.

But for Dorothea she had to endure far worse than a one off occasion. At least with his students they were around to support each other if need be, and they always had him to talk to if they were troubled at all. For her however, she was alone the whole time she was conscripted, none of the other Black Eagles were around for her to lean on. Soldiers were trained to accept the cruelty of war, taught to steel themselves for what they were going to do. Now he could see that Dorothea had not been prepared to face that, despite her teachings at the Academy. Two years of having to fight on behalf of someone that was once her friend, alongside the Demonic Beasts she used to further her aims, and then three years of being on the run for desertion. And all that time appeared to have taken its toll on her.

Byleth had to agree: the woman in front of him was much different than he remembered her as. And there was still no inkling at all that she was lying to him. Her body language was too genuine to be that of a spy.

“I'm sorry you had to go through that, Dorothea,” he stated solemnly, his brows knitting slightly as he did and the flame cooling inside him. “War is never pretty. It often changes us after we see the horrors of it. That you're still here and haven't lost your mind is a testament to how strong you are.”

Dorothea let out a short chuckle, life returning to her sullen expression. “How strong can I be if I ran away though?”

“You feared what the consequences might be for deserting. And you did so anyway despite it. A decision like that requires both strength and courage.”

Her eyes flashed at the distinction being made. “I... never thought of it that way. When you put it like that it does sound like a brave decision.”

A faint smile appeared on his face as the flame returned to its warm embrace. “I'm glad you did. I don't know if I could bear it if I learned one my former students died.”

She smiled brightly at him. “Aw, that's sweet of you professor! Even with your soul-staring gazes you really are just a big ol' sweetheart underneath huh?” She paused for a moment before the smile left her visage and became more serious. “...That's actually a good place to start.”

Byleth's face went even at the suddenness of her tone and found himself become uneasy again, his battle instincts kicking in as his right arm twitched. “Start what?”

“With the whole reason why I'm here. I don't know what's happened to the other Black Eagles all this time, but I can only imagine they've had it as bad I did. I was... hoping I could join you and maybe find them before it was too late... if they're still alive.”

Byleth blinked and didn't respond for a moment. He had not expected for her to make such a request, especially given the tale she had just told, but then he had went into this not knowing what to expect apart from her being a spy. This certainly added more credence to that notion, but given that she had told him what her life had been like for the past five years... his mind was a mess of trust and caution. He decided to err on the side of the latter for now.

“When Seteth told me that you had returned,” she continued, “And were going to be leading the Knights against the Empire, I figured you might be the best chance I have to save them before they were killed. Assuming they haven't been already, but I don't want to believe that.”

“You wish to join the Church in its war with the Empire?” Byleth asked, sounding unconvinced. “After everything you just told me?”

“I... know how it sounds, but at least by being with you and the others there would be familiar faces for me to speak with at least.” She looked him dead in the eyes. “I want this war to be over, professor. And I want to spare Petra, Lin, and the others from having to go through what I did.”

Byleth pinched his chin in thought. The idea of having to fight, and possibly kill, former students of his never sat well with him. It was one of the reasons why he was hesitant to join the war in the first place, but ultimately decided that it would be up to him to decide that. Others would more likely just see them as just an enemy with a familiar face, and the outcome could change drastically for either party. If it were at all possible to prevent that from happening he would, and if Dorothea was right about what's become of the Black Eagles, and he had little reason to doubt it, then it only further convinced him that he made the right decision in joining.

“Edelgard is fighting to reform the system,” Byleth went on, wanting to not make his decision of allowing her to join based off of his personal feelings on the matter. “This would mean that the nobility may change to make them less powerful. You would fight against that?”

“It's true...” she admitted, glancing toward the ground with knitted brows. “Edie's goals for a better Fódlan are something worth fighting for. Anything to have them not be the corrupt and selfish people they are now, but... is it really worth all this sacrifice? So many more innocent people are dying than should be, not to mention her turning people into Demonic Beasts is just appalling. I know joining you will mean I'll end up taking more lives, but the knights aren't so callous about it as the Empire is.”

“What do you mean?”

She looked off to the distance, facing south. “The Empire... the soldiers... they firmly believe in Edie's cause. I heard them whisper about her goals for uniting Fódlan and how excited they were to see it happen. So much so that they're willing to die for it if it meant uniting Fódlan under Edie and bringing about greater opportunities for them, their familes, or anyone else that suffered under the current system.”

Byleth crossed his arms, but his face remained steady. “You don't believe in the current system. Why side with the Church then?”

She looked at him once more, her voice becoming firm. “Because I believe in you, professor. Surely you can agree that Fódlan society needs to be changed to benefit everyone and not just the nobles?”

He quietly sighed to himself. She hasn't lied to him yet, so he wanted to reciprocate that trust in him. “Perhaps... With what I've learned about the progress Edelgard has made, I don't think the previous system can return regardless. The war has brought too much suffering. It will take a massive effort for Fódlan to recover from it.”

She beamed at him. “Ah! So you do understand! And now that I know you're the new archbishop, you can make that happen!”

Byleth shook his head to hide his wince. He still wasn't comfortable of the idea about someone being the new archbishop who had only ever been introduced to the religion very recently. “It will require someone else, Dorothea. I'm no ruler. Besides, it is too early to think about that for now.”

“I... suppose you have a point...” she said disappointingly. “But I at least believe you won't let that happen. I'm sure you would at least work to make sure the person in charge will have everyone's best interests in mind.”

Byleth closed his eyes for a moment, processing everything she said for the past several minutes. He was thoroughly convinced that Dorothea was honest about her intentions. Though she could be teasing to others, even to him, more often than not she had been straightforward with him and could see that she did want to join. Still, he was at war, and he couldn't just take her word for it.

“I want to let you join, Dorothea,” he answered after a moment. Her eyes widened and her smile returned, but quickly faded into one of confusion as he held up his hand. “But we are at war, and I have the lives of the Knights and my students to consider. It would be irresponsible of me to take you for your word and a disservice to them.”

“You.. think I'm a spy, don't you?” She sounded hurt at the subtle accusation, something that Byleth had expected, but couldn't afford to outright accuse her. They were low on personnel and having another mage in their ranks would be useful, but the lives of those he trusted completely outweighed his desire to have another student back.

“The idea had crossed my mind several times,” he admitted flatly. “But after listening to you I don't believe that to be the case. However the others may not think that, and they may want some assurance.”

Dorothea paused for a moment to consider before she her eyes flashed with an idea. “What if I were to tell you that there is a group of Empire soldiers stationed not far from here? They've been keeping an eye on Garreg Mach in case the Knights ever decided to come back...”

“...And with reconstruction and mobilization taking place,” he added while pinching his chin, his eyes narrowing in thought. “It won't be long before they're aware of our presence. Do you know where they're located?”

“To the southeast of the monastery, on the border of the Varley territory.”

Byleth nodded firmly. “Then we will have to prepare our defenses. We can't attack them outright, not while they're still unaware of us. Dorothea, head back to your room and settle in before meeting us in the Cardinals' Room. Everyone will want to hear what you just told me.”

Her eyes went wide with shock. “Head back to my... does this mean-?!”

Byleth smiled as the flame burned in his chest, his eyes softening to her reaction. “Welcome to the resistance.”

She sighed with relief, a great weight lifted off of her shoulders. “Thank you so much, Professor Byleth! I'll be there as soon as I can!” Dorothea turned around and to leave, but swung back around just as fast. “Ah! I almost forgot! The orphans back in the village! Would it be all right if I were to bring them here professor? I'm sure they could help out in anyway they can, knowing that the Knights will keep them safe.”

“I don't mind. I will see what Seteth can do for them.” She beamed at him and gave him a quick hug before once more turning to leave toward her dormitory room, a spring to her step as her disposition was revitalized.

Byleth felt a moment of pride swell within him as he watched her go, but just as soon as it arrive did it waver. Her story reminded him that it was almost a certainty that he would have to fight against the students he had come to care about even if they weren't his Golden Deer. He hoped that it would not be the case, but he wasn't naive about the chances. He hoped that he'd be able to reach out to them and spare them. Dorothea was a case of it working out for him, but he had the benefit that she came here with the intention of joining him and making it easy for him.

As he walked up the stairs into the entrance hall toward the war council, a dark thought lingered in his mind like a scar that would not fade. Would he be so lucky with the others?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we have it! Another chapter in the books!
> 
> And now you all have an idea as to what I plan to do with the students of the other Houses now that Dorothea has joined the resistance. I hated the recruitment system in the game. I mean why would people betray their homes for one person they've only known for only a year? Sure you could argue some could do that depending on the route, but ultimately it didn't make much sense to me. 
> 
> On the other hand it is stated that Byleth was popular with the students so he does hold some sway with them, but to me not enough to convince them to commit treason. If you could recruit them during the war phase, that would have made more sense to me, but only if you had reached B support with them prior to fighting them. And in the case of this story, assume that Byleth had reach B support with all of them.
> 
> I will be working on part 2 of this chapter now, which will be the war council in question. Not sure how long that will be, so that's why I separated that and this chapter just in case.
> 
> P.S. If anyone is wondering if I'll be adding the Ashen Wolves yet, I'm not 100% certain on that yet. If I can find a way to incorporate them, then I will, but I haven't made that decision yet.


	7. A Rocky Road Ahead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first war council is about to begin for the resistance. Much has happened in the first day since their entry into the war began, and the leaders will realize that the path ahead will be a struggle to overcome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm, looking at this now this may not be as much of a part 2 as I realized. Oh well, better to give myself that cushion then to have a chapter be 20k words!
> 
> Not much to added here since the date is already easy to discern. Enjoy!

Byleth hurriedly made his way to the reception hall, well aware that he was late by this point. It had been at least fifteen minutes since the cathedral bell rang its deep tune, and by now he was certain the others were either sitting in the Cardinals' Room impatiently for him, or had left altogether and would reschedule later. He had always been so punctual during the school year, and on the surface it would seem unprofessional, perhaps even unbecoming of him. At least he had a reason, and to him a good one at that. After all he couldn't prepare for every scenario, and having Dorothea arrive unexpectedly at his doorstep was one way to delay him.

As he ascended the staircase to the second floor two steps at a time, much of what Dorothea had to say to him stormed around in his mind. Foremost among it was the fate of the former Black Eagles. Many outcomes whirled through his mind about them ever since yesterday, but learning of their conscription into the Empire's army was one of the worst he could imagine, forced to fight for someone they had once considered a friend and now kept them at arms length at least. He wondered if any of them had a change of heart about their support for Edelgard since that time, or were they still fighting for a cause they may not believe in simply because the alternative would be worse? The uncertainty left him uneasy, and he hoped to find answers soon. The silver lining was that there was a chance they were still alive, but if they were still fighting then it could only mean that at some point he would have to face them. He could only hope he could convince them to join his side, but if not...

He wrenched his eyes shut. He had to give them a chance first. He promised Dorothea he would try to save them if he could. And he desired above all else to avoid killing former students of his even if they weren't ever officially Golden Deer.

He turned the corner and strode down the hall, not even paying attention to the knight on duty in front of the Audience Chamber as she bowed to him, nor did he pay any mind to the nun walking toward him, flying past her with an annoyed “Really?” as her response. It had also been somewhat disheartening to learn that Edelgard had become more distant over time. He always understood her to be a determined woman, one with great goals in mind and willing to do what was necessary to achieve them, but every now and then he could see glimpses of someone else underneath that hard shell she had encased herself in when he was around him To learn that she is distant even to her former classmates now despite their defense of the monastery was both understandable and regrettable. It could only mean that she must be utterly alone in what she was trying to accomplish, save for perhaps her loyal servant, Hubert.

He rounded the corner at the end of the hall, his feet echoing against the stone walls as he quickened his pace. He wondered how the others would receive the news about their newest addition to their army. They might be apprehensive to the idea despite Dorothea's weary attitude toward the war, and likely believe him to be naive for not giving her a more thorough scrutiny. They could end up having the same suspicions he had before she shared her story to him. He wouldn't blame them for it, though with the information he now had about the nearby troops stationed near Varley territory, they might ease into the idea of her joining. He knew the risk of having her here and what it might mean, but ultimately he was the archbishop and he couldn't simply turn away someone in need. If anything were to happen, he would take responsibility for it, though he was confident in Dorothea's honesty.

He finally arrived at the entrance to the double doors that led into the Cardinals' Room. Two knights, one man and one woman, clad in their standard-issue armor, were on either side. They stood at attention before they repeated the actions of their comrades and bowed to welcome him to the council.

“Your Grace,” the female greeted. Despite the full-faced helmet she wore, her voice came out almost as though it wasn't there at all. “The others are expecting you. Please head on inside.”

“Thank you.” He paused for a second before holding up a hand as the knights moved to open the doors for him. “Wait. There will be a brunette woman with a red dress coming here later. Let her in as soon as she arrives. She has information to share with us.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” said the male knight. They then pushed either door open for him and he proceeded inside.

He was greeted by the sight of a long, rectangular room that was at least a couple stories high, supported by a series of pillars and arches on either side, and three large chandeliers that held several lit candles. The crimson curtains on the northern wall were pulled back and tied to allow the morning light to pour in through the decorative windows. On the opposite side hung a similarly-colored banner with two sets of mounted weapons flanking it. In the center were four tables, two long and two short that were arranged and connected into a rectangle and surrounded on the outside by many wooden, exquisitely crafted chairs.

Occupying those chairs were each of his former students as well as the members of the Church he had called upon before during the school year. Though they sat in no particular pattern, he noted that Claude and Seteth sat next to the empty chair closest to him and presumed that that was his designated seat. Apart from that Lorenz was the next closest to Claude while Flayn was the same with Seteth. Some of them had been engaging in small talk with one another while others had been sitting quietly and awaiting his arrival. The noise had ceased the moment the doors opened and he stepped through, all of them turning to meet him.

“I'm sorry for the delay,” he stated, his face remaining even as he stepped forward to take his place at the table. In front of all of them were several pieces of parchment and a quill placed in their respective inkwells. The parchments were arranged in various ways for everyone depending on their organizational skills, with those like Seteth and Lysithea having them neatly stacked together while others like Raphael and Marianne were something to be desired. His own pile was mismatched here and there, which he set to work on correcting.

As he sat down and surveyed his audience he noticed that there were two individuals missing from their council though he knew their reasons for it. Professor Manuela had been put in charge of assessing the health of everyone present, a task that would carry on for several days at least and was a more urgent matter to attend to. Meanwhile Professor Hanneman was embroiled in his research and asked to be updated on what would be discussed after they had finished. There was much he had done over the past five years and was needed to be cataloged so as to not set him back that same amount of time.

“It is unlike you to be tardy, Professor Byleth,” noted Lorenz, who was sitting upright and attentive in his seat. “Given our experience with you, I would have expected you to have arrived before any of us.”

“Something urgent came up at the front gate.” He expected this kind of questioning to happen, though he had hoped to put it off for a little while longer. He began mentally preparing himself for their reactions to what he would tell them.

“I saw the gatekeeper running towards you when we were leaving,” Leonie pointed out as she leaned her arms onto the table. She then briefly furrowed her brow in contemplation. “Actually it was more like sprinting. It must have been important.”

“Is everything all right professor?” Flayn chimed in, her face of curiosity rather than concern. “What happened?”

“A visitor asked to see me.” He paused for a moment as he finalized his preparations. “I'm sure some of you remember Dorothea from the Black Eagles.”

At that mention he could practically see the tension rise in the room. Whether the concern was for her well-being or if he had just made a significant error on his part, he would soon find out. When he scanned the room for their reactions, many of those present stared at him incredulously while others just simply looked more surprised. Notably he could see that one who didn't share their sentiments was Claude. The leader of the Alliance was doing his best to hide a smirk and appeared the most unfazed compared to the others.

“You met with an Imperial soldier?” Shamir questioned pointedly, one of those who looked back at him in disbelief. It stung a little to have a student be called that, but he couldn't blame her for the identification. Moreover it made him aware that they were aware of her now former position, or perhaps they just assumed given her origins.

“I met with a former student, Shamir,” Byleth corrected, his tone remaining level.

“She is a former student, yes,” said Catherine, who leaned slightly forward in her seat and crossed her arms on the table, “But we have it on good authority that Dorothea and the rest of the Black Eagles joined the Imperial army after the Battle of Garreg Mach.”

“When was the last time you were updated about them?”

“It's been four years since we've known,” answered Shamir, no longer inquisitive but returning to her monotone voice, “Since we we're looking for Lady Rhea their whereabouts and status were a low priority.”

“It is possible much can change for them during that time,” added Seteth, clasping his hands together and resting them on the table. He was one of the few who was not aghast at Byleth's mention of Dorothea. “But without any solid intelligence we can only presume they are still apart of Edelgard's forces. In Miss Arnault's case, I did happen upon her during my search in one of the villages. She recognized Flayn and I and wondered what we were doing there. I did not suspect her of any ill-will, but rather I was more surprised to discover her residing there. I could only surmise that she left the army somehow.”

“She fled the army,” informed Byleth. A new wave of disbelief spread throughout the room, and even those who were more lukewarm to his prior news were widening their eyes in surprise. Claude too joined in on the disbelief, but his gesture was brief.

“She deserted the Imperial army?” asked Lorenz, voicing the collective thoughts of many in the room and the first student to speak up about the news of Dorothea and one of those who couldn't believe Byleth gave Dorothea an audience. “That is... quite the achievement considering her presumably tenuous position in the emperor's army.”

“That is pretty bold of her,” remarked Hilda in agreement. “I can't even imagine how hard that would be. I'd think she'd have someone watching her the whole time.”

“If Seteth found her in a village...” pondered Lysithea as she pinched her chin in thought, “It's reasonable to believe she's been in hiding since then.”

“She's been in hiding for three years.” The room grew silent once more as he delivered still more news about Dorothea's circumstance. He was beginning to think that it was less about Dorothea's well-being and more along the lines of just how someone could accomplish what she's done to resist and even defy the situation she was put in.

“Three years?” Ignatz repeated as he adjusted his glasses from being slightly dislodged from recoiling. “How did she manage to avoid the Imperial army all that time? Wouldn't they have sent out search parties for her?.”

“It's possible that was a low priority for the emperor,” suggested Catherine. “The Empire was fighting the Kingdom at the time, and it's possible she might have forgotten about her too.”

“Perhaps,” added Seteth, “But we must not forget that Miss Arnault was a former classmate to the emperor. A classmate that defied her along with much of the other former Black Eagles during the battle five years ago. I'm certain that betrayal has not been forgotten by Edelgard, but I do agree that locating Miss Arnault would be a low priority for her. Winning this war demands her attention, but I would wager that after its completion she would hunt down Miss Arnault for her desertion.”

“I have invited her to join us as soon as she's settled in,” Byleth informed, which now garnered an alarmed look even from Seteth.

“Professor! Surely you jest-!”

“You met with her, Seteth. You saw how she was. Distraught. Anxious. She is no longer part of the Empire, and she wished to join us.”

“I don't see a problem here,” Claude added as he rested his hands behind his head, finally speaking up for the first time. “I'm confident that if Teach thought without a doubt that Dorothea was a spy he would have turned her away. And if what we learned about her in the past few minutes is any indication, she's not a spy. We could reasonably assume she is one considering where's she from and she'll know that.”

“She did ask me if I suspected her of being one.”

Claude tilted his head toward him in acknowledgment. “Exactly. If she was, she would have reported what Seteth was doing to Edelgard, and at that point we'd already have a contingent of troops knocking at our door. The window for all of that to occur is too small for that to happen. If Teach trusts her, then we can trust her.” Now he looked over at Seteth with a smirk. “Besides, it would look really bad for the new archbishop and the Church to turn away someone in need even if there's a war going on, right?”

“That... is true,” reluctantly answered the green-haired adviser, wincing as he did so. “But we cannot always extend that charitable hand to just everyone during wartime. I would advise that you keep that in mind as time goes on, professor. I do not suspect Miss Arnault of being a spy, but that does not mean everyone who comes to monastery during this period won't be.”

“I am aware,” nodded Byleth. “If she is a spy I will accept responsibility for the consequences. She also offered information in exchange for joining the resistance. She will be sharing that with all of you when she arrives.”

“What kind of information?” inquired Lysithea with a curious brow.

“The location of a nearby detachment of Imperial troops, as well as news of the disposition of both Edelgard and her army.” Those present glanced around at each other at the more troubling news. Garreg Mach was at the center of Fódlan and as such bordered the Empire from the southwest to the southeast. As the monastery had not been demolished in the five years since the Church abandoned it, it was only realistic that Edelgard would have some troops to keep an eye on Garreg Mach.

“I gotta hand it to Edelgard,” remarked Claude, lifting his arms up in defeat. “She doesn't want anything getting past her.”

“It is prudent of her to have soldiers stationed nearby,” Lorenz argued. “Though it is now vexing given our circumstances.”

“Which means it will only be a matter of time before they become aware of our presence here,” Seteth concluded, interlocking his hands together in front of him. There was a momentary pause in the room as everyone present came to a silent understanding that their part in the war would happen sooner rather than later.

“Still,” said Claude, breaking the silence and causing heads to turn toward him. He leaned back in his chair and bore his trademark deceitful, smug smile. “For now they have no idea that anyone's here. Let's just continue doing what we're doing while keeping that in mind as we prepare.”

“We'll need to prepare defenses, Claude!” Lysithea protested, partially offended that Claude didn't seem to be taking this seriously. “With the amount of people we have here there's no way we could defend the monastery from a direct assault!”

“I agree,” said Lorenz, furrowing his brow at Claude's casual demeanor. “As Seteth said, it is only a matter of time before they discover us. We need to prepare for that inevitability before it happens.”

Claude slowly nodded his head once while maintaining his façade. “Just leave it to me. My mind is already churning and I'll have something to show once I figure out the details.” He sat back upright and folded his arms on the table.

“'Leaving it' to you brought disarray to the Alliance!” Lorenz's voice raised at the coy nature Claude decided to adopt on a pressing concern in everyone's mind. Claude only raised an eyebrow at the upset, lavender-haired noble who was once more showing his discontent with him. “If my father were the one leading the Alliance, perhaps he would have-”

“Surrendered immediately and lost our part of the war before it began,” Claude finished. Whether that would have occurred or not Byleth couldn't say as he was still somewhat unfamiliar with Alliance politics, nor did he have a full idea of Count Gloucester and his overall goals.

Lorenz was taken aback by the Alliance leader's audacity and balled his hand. “Now see here Claude!”

“Enough!” The flame grew hot and flared in his chest as Byleth glared at the both of them, keeping his voice firm and even yet carrying the authority of one who was ultimately in charge of those under the roof of the monastery. He could see that Lorenz still held contempt for the way Claude had handled the Alliance these past few years, but now was not the time for him to address it. All eyes suddenly focused on his as Byleth continued, with Lorenz looking on as though he was just now remembering that he had an audience watching this unfold. “Whatever your quarrels are in the Alliance have no place here, Lorenz. We are here to plan for the war ahead. Let's return to that and you can discuss your concerns about the state of the Alliance with Claude in private.”

Everyone present couldn't help but stare back at him, eyes varying in width as the archbishop relaxed himself back into his chair. Lysithea gave him a small, approving smile at him, the first one he had seen since yesterday, while some of the other former Golden Deer looked impressed. The only one of those who didn't react the same way were the two men sitting next to him.

“Professor Byleth's right,” voiced Lysithea after several seconds, causing the former to turn toward her. “Alliance politics are a concern for the Roundtable conferences, not a war council. Let's leave that at home and focus on the task at hand.”

“We are all here to achieve the same goal,” added Flayn, donning her sweet, soft smile as she spoke. “The Empire threatens every one of us, and we should be working together to stop its conquest!”

“You're right, Flayn,” remarked Marianne, who had her hands gently laying atop each other and appeared quite serene and composed in her seat. “Now is not the time to argue. If we let that happen we won't make any progress toward that goal. Let's leave our differences behind us whenever we gather like this and move forward.”

Byleth sat slightly stunned as he gazed at Marianne. The cerulean-haired maiden continued to impress him and it had only been a full day since he last saw her from five years ago. To think that the once shy, depressed girl had grown to become the composed, confident woman before him was still baffling. From going to her initiating a hug to now speaking up without being prompted he couldn't help but feel proud of how far she had come, and the flame in his chest matched his pride as it swelled and burned.

“My apologies, professor,” Lorenz's brows knitted as his tone went sullen. “I let personal grievances get the better of me. I shall use more discretion for future war councils.” He adjusted himself in his seat and recomposed to a more dignified stance. “However the fact remains that we cannot ignore the Imperial garrison nearby and must prepare ourselves accordingly.”

“And we will,” Claude reassured as he arched his arms and rested his chin on his hands. “I only have an idea for now so just give me some time to iron out the details.”

“Meanwhile,” Shamir began, “We'll need to keep an eye on the garrison. Did Dorothea tell you what we should expect? Or give us a location?”

“To the southeast,” said Byleth as he met her gaze. The flame had cooled by this point as his earlier frustration settled. “On the border of the Varley territory. She didn't specifically say where. Do we have a map here?”

“Got it right here, professor!” chimed in Raphael. The burly man stood up with a large roll of paper he pulled over from his side and went over to the back of the room along with Alois to place it up for all to see. It took only a moment before the over-sized parchment was on display and the two large men returned to their seats.

“Good. I'll have Dorothea point out exactly where they're located when she comes. Shamir, I'll want you to take a few of our scouts and assess their numbers as soon as possible.”

“When we know its location, it'll be done.”

Byleth nodded, then noticed that Ignatz was scribbling away on a sheet of paper, bringing Byleth to raise a curious brow in his direction if only because he was the sole person in the room to do so. “What are you doing, Ignatz?”

“Huh?” Ignatz flinched in his seat at the sudden call. “Oh! Hilda wanted me to be our scribe during the war councils! I'll be writing down every decision we come to and keep the notes around for anyone to copy if they need them.”

Byleth looked on at Hilda in surprise at her show of initiative. It was only a day, but she was already showing signs of someone who was taking on something of a leadership role. He had noticed that she had been hanging around with Claude ever since they all agreed to fight back against the Empire, but what he didn't know until now was that she was already providing assistance to the Alliance leader as a sort of unofficial retainer, managing the more menial tasks around the monastery and allowing Claude to focus on war strategy.

“What?” asked Hilda as her cheeks began to match her hair and eyes. “I just thought it would be a waste if we talked about all this and then someone forgets it later on! Besides, Ignatz has some of the best handwriting out of all of us so it only makes sense to have him keep track of all this!”

“I'm impressed, Hilda,” Byleth replied as a faint smile grazed his lips. “Thank you for your foresight.”

“Maybe you should be the one sitting in this chair, Hilda,” Claude chuckled as he thumbed in Byleth's direction, causing Hilda to stare at him aghast.

“Hey now! Don't go dumping that kind of responsibility on me, Mr. Leader Man! Professor Byleth is perfectly suited for that role.”

“Let's focus you two,” Seteth calmly urged. “There is more to be discussed and we must not get distracted by this idle chatter.”

Byleth nodded in agreement. “Seteth, what do you have to report on the workers you and Flayn recruited?”

“For the time being,” he began, speaking loud enough for everyone to hear him, “The numbers will suffice. As we have the knights and all of you to help contribute to the task of clearing away rubble and providing assistance to the workers, it can afford them more time to focus on repairing the damage done to the monastery.” His face went downcast before continuing. “Unfortunately the repairs to the cathedral will take far more time. The damage to it is more extensive than anywhere else in the monastery and we do not have the necessary equipment to correct it. Perhaps as time goes on we can spread our efforts to more distant towns, but for now we will have to make do.”

“The war has made travel dangerous,” said a downtrodden Flayn as she looked on with sadness in her eyes. “We were able to recruit who we did thanks to the group of knights that accompanied us, but those were from villages close by. I fear if we were to travel further Imperial soldiers would recognize us and either attempt to capture us... or kill us. Though I dearly wish to see the monastery restored, we must not unnecessarily endanger the lives of the people to do so.”

Out of everyone present the green-haired girl had shown to be the most disheartened by the war whenever she spoke of it. Early on Flayn had proven to be the most eager and excitable student he had as she was able to interact with others and participate as a student in his class, perhaps made even moreso by the fact that he had helped to save her life from the dreaded Death Knight. Her white magic was already impressive enough that Byleth even thought to learn a thing or two from her. Then the war happened, and along with being one of the most wanted people in Fódlan the last five years had certainly worn her down, although he noted more than he would have guessed. It was as if she had experienced war before and the impact and costs it brought to those involved and was forced to accept it all over again.

“Complete reconstruction will just have to wait then,” Alois concluded. “The monastery can be rebuilt; the lives of the people cannot.”

“Not to mention we'd have to find ways to accommodate them,” Catherine decided to add in. “With much of the surrounding towns in ruins, we don't have the space to provide housing for them.”

“As we move forward,” said Byleth as he jotted a step-by-step process down on the paper before him, mimicking his bespectacled student, “And make the area around the monastery safe, we should first rebuild the towns so that we can provide shelter. Then the builders can focus on the monastery. For now, let's focus on cleaning, and fixing the superficial damage.”

Without any objections, some of the more academic of the group wrote down their own notes, the sound of quill tips running across parchment being the only noise to fill the room. Byleth handed over his instructions to Seteth, who took them casually and, with a quick scan and a nod, set them aside.

“As you wish, professor,” stated Seteth as he clasped his hands together, “Shall Flayn and I resume our search for more workers in the surrounding villagers we were not able to visit yesterday? There is still some room available on the grounds for those that would need it.”

“As I believe the saying goes,” said Flayn matter-of-factually, her warm smile returning and illuminating the room with her innocence, “'Many hands make for light work'. There are a few villages we have not yet visited in the mountains. With your permission, my brother and I will attempt to recruit them if they so choose.”

Byleth sat silent for a moment as he thought the suggestion through. While Flayn did have a point, there was one factor she hadn't considered that caused him to shake his head. “No. We have enough for now. We need to think about more immediate concerns.”

“Restoring the monastery is one of our concerns professor!” Catherine objected, frowning at the apparent dismissal of one of his duties as archbishop. “If Lady Rhea were to see the monastery like this-”

“She would understand. We may have extra shelter, but we do not have extra supplies. More people would mean more food. I was told yesterday about our current stockpile.” He turned his head almost unnoticeably to the white-haired mage halfway down the left long-table. “Lysithea, please inform everyone what you have learned about that.”

The woman in question adjusted her posture so she sat up rigid, but professionally, bringing an amused smirk to Claude's visage at the display. Lysithea glanced over at her former teacher and for a moment their eyes locked together, a frown creasing her cheeks for the briefest of moments before she went neutral, and it swiftly brought the memory of yesterday back to the forefront of Byleth's mind.

That day was certainly productive of their time. She had indeed kept up her training even after the monastery fell, and he had to admit that her increased magical power had proven to be impressive, though noted that her form in swordplay was slipping. It also answered the question as to why she was always pushing herself so hard to be the best she could, but it was that same answer that brought forth more questions. Just what did she mean by not having much time left? It puzzled him greatly, and her reaction to him as he pressed for clarity worried him. It was obviously a sensitive subject for her so he opted to drop the topic in favor of respecting her privacy. He only hoped that some day she would confide in him about it sooner rather than later if what she so cryptically hinted at was any indication.

Yet since that day they had not spoken much. Both of them were focused on their tasks which didn't allow much time for idle conversation to begin with, but what few interactions they did have were brief. When they did it was either a simple greeting, or just an update as to where she was going, and each time she had spoken nonchalantly to him, as though it were a matter of business rather than two friends meeting up. The only lengthy conversation they had was her report on the monastery's stockpile of supplies, and even then she discussed it straightforwardly with him. And each time they saw each other, they would lock eyes momentarily as she bore the same frown she had just done so now. It left him wondering if she was trying to avoid him at this point, a thought that haunted him as the last thing he ever wanted was to be hated by his own student. He resolved that he would meet with her as soon as the council was finished and apologize for intruding upon her privacy.

“After a thorough search with the help of the knights,” Lysithea began, her voice professional and clear, “I regret to inform you all that the monastery's storehouses are lacking adequate supplies. Most of the food has spoiled at this point, and what we do have will need to be rationed.” Byleth noted that Raphael had a look of abject horror on his face at the mere thought of eating low proportions.

“So what are we gonna do about food supplies?” Raphael predictably asked worriedly, “It's gonna be hard to fight on an empty stomach!”

Lysithea furrowed her brows slightly at the interruption, but maintained her self-control. “I was getting to that. As Leonie and Claude discovered yesterday there is still some wildlife available for hunting, but most of the larger creatures are hibernating for now.” Lysithea paused briefly to let her information settle in. Most of the others looked at one another with worry plastered on their faces as to what to expect for the next several days. “There is at least some measure of good news. While we may not have much food in storage, we did find plenty of seeds suited for winter to plant in the greenhouse.” Lysithea looked over at her former professor and Byleth understood the signal.

“Marianne,” he called causing the pious woman to jolt in her seat and swing her head towards him. “How goes yours and Ignatz's progress on clearing the greenhouse?”

“Oh, um,” she hesitated, a familiar trait of hers to do, though noted that she didn't look away or hang her head as she had done countless times before. “We should be able to finish it today. Some of the plants were more difficult to prune than others, so Ignatz had to cut them down with his sword. We are going to need help pulling the roots out of the soil though. I'm afraid we don't have the strength to do that ourselves.”

“Leave that to me, Marianne!” Raphael piped cheerfully, “If it means more food for all of us, then I'll rip those roots out in a heartbeat!”

“Just... be careful, Raphael...” Ignatz cautioned. “We don't need the soil being thrown everywhere at the same time. Tearing the roots out won't do us any good if there's no soil to plant the seeds in.” Ignatz then turned his attention to the white-haired mage. “Lysithea, did you happen to find any fertilizer in your search?”

She nodded. “We did... though I'm not entirely in favor of stepping back in there for the moment. I can still smell both it and the rotten fruit every time I breathe.” The girl winced and shivered in her seat as she thought on it, earning a sympathetic frown from Byleth.

“We should also hold on to some of the fruit,” Ignatz suggested. “They could also serve as fertilizer, and if they still have juices left the acid content would help the seeds grow more quickly.”

Hilda let out a disgusted groan. “Just please don't ask me to handle that! I would probably faint if I got anywhere near that stuff. And we don't need anyone hospitalized when there's still so much left to do, right?” Hilda pinched her chin for a fleeting moment before her eyes flashed. “Oh! You know if we are low on food, maybe some of the villages nearby might be willing to lend us some of theirs?”

“That is one option available,” Lysithea mused, “But since it's winter I doubt they'd be willing to part with their own stockpile.”

“It's worth a try at least,” remarked Claude. “Raphael does have a point. Without adequate food supplies we're not going to be able to properly wage this war if everyone's gonna complain about tummy aches. Hilda, you and Flayn should head to the nearby villages and ask to see if they would be willing to help us out.”

“Do you really think they'd just give us their food?” Leonie questioned with a cocked brow. “Even if they were faithful followers they have to think about their own survival first. I know I would.”

Claude winked at Hilda with a smile. “Ah I'm sure having two cute girls asking for help should be more than enough to convince them.” Flayn could be heard giggling while many of the others present, including Hilda, stifled a collective groan. “Joking aside, I don't expect them to give us something for nothing. My guess is that they would want to be paid for their food. Seteth, how is the Church on money? I don't suppose you have anything stored away for a rainy day?”

“The Church is not lacking in funds,” answered the older man, “Though they are not what they once were. Without anyone to receive donations our coffers have remained stagnant since we were forced to abandon the monastery.”

Claude appeared genuinely surprised at the revelation. “You mean in the five years since everyone left not a single person robbed the Church?”

Seteth gave a rare, satisfied smile at the Alliance leader's reaction. “Our safehouse is one of the most secure, and hidden, locations here. It would take one with intimate knowledge of the monastery and its many passageways to even find it, let alone gain access to its riches.”

Claude smiled. “That's going to serve us well here.” He returned his attention to Hilda. “You and Flayn should see what the villages's asking prices are and we'll go from there.”

Seteth stirred in his seat and furrowed his brow, a gesture that Hilda quickly noticed. “Don't worry, Seteth. I'll make sure nothing bad happens to Flayn while we're gone. Though... I wouldn't argue if we had some of the knights coming with us too...”

“If it would reassure you Seteth,” chimed in Alois, taking the bait, “I would be happy to accompany Hilda and Flayn in their mission.”

“Hmm...” Seteth pondered for a moment before nodding. “Yes I think that should suffice. I will be counting on the two of you to keep her safe. I would also like it if this venture was stricken from the record on the chance that Miss Arnault does have ill intentions.” While both Hilda and Alois smiled and nodded at him, Seteth's continued overprotectiveness only earned a pout from his “sister”.

“Well now that that's settled,” said Claude, “Let's get back to our supplies. How are we suited for weapons Lorenz?”

Much like Lysithea before him, Lorenz made sure to appear presentable before giving his own report, giving himself a look over of his armor before clearing his throat and beginning. “Unfortunately I do not have much good news in that regard. While the Church still has its supply of sacred relics, we are severely lacking in spare weapons. What weapons we do have are what we brought ourselves, and a small selection of iron and steel swords, axes, lances, and gauntlets. Until we are able to secure the area surrounding the monastery and make it safe to attract merchants and blacksmiths again, we will be forced to maintain our personal weapons for now.”

Another pause filled the air as the others processed the information. So far much of what had to be said was nothing but bad news, and even Byleth found his eyes sinking down at the paper before him with the notes he had taken so far, the flame cooling slightly as he did. They were not the fighting force they should be to take on an entire nation, and with each report it only kept growing more apparent. He was going to need to play this smart if they had any hope of winning this war at all. They all had to.

“This is as a good a time as any,” Catherine intervened, “To ask again when we can expect some relief from the Alliance.”

“I could try reaching out to my family,” half-heartedly suggested Ignatz, “But the biggest problem would be traveling to the monastery from Deirdru. With the way the routes work, they would end up having to pass through Lorenz's territory.”

“Indeed, Ignatz,” Lorenz nodded curtly before turning his attention to Catherine. “The routes that the Victor Trading Company would inevitably pass through are in Gloucester territory. They may be able to escape notice at first, but eventually the guards posted at different checkpoints would report the unusual journey that the merchants were taking, in addition to what wares they were bringing, to my father. He's doing his best to avoid a confrontation with the Empire, and is trying to avoid giving them any excuse to invade the Alliance.” Lorenz eyed Claude as he finished, but the latter didn't seem or care to notice.

“Couldn't the merchants just bribe the guards to look the other way?” Shamir offered, earning an appalled look from Alois as he reeled in his seat.

“Shamir! The very idea for a Knight of Seiros to suggest honest merchants commit a crime for our sake is against everything we were taught at the monastery!”

“We have to think realistically, Alois. If we don't have the equipment and resources we need for an army, there's a good chance we'll lose this war.” Byleth noted some of the others stirring in their seats at Shamir's dire prediction if only because they she knew she was right, as did he. The professor side of him wanted to reassure them that things would work out, but the logical part of him knew that offering blind optimism would only hurt their case further. This was a war and everyone needed to know just where they were in terms of effectiveness to encourage them to think carefully about how to proceed until things turned in their favor. If they turned in their favor. “We have to use whatever advantage we can take, even the ones the Church would find unsavory.”

“I'm afraid it would not feasible anyway,” Lorenz admitted and taking a more sullen tone. “Once the watchmen learned of their intentions, my father would either have them turn away the merchants, or at worst have them arrested.”

“And would then bring it up at the Roundtable conference where I would never hear the end of it,” commented Claude with his signature fake smile. “Your father sure does like making things difficult for me Lorenz.”

“You have not given him much reason to do otherwise...”

“And it doesn't help that he doesn't like you either,” added Hilda.

“I don't expect that to change,” admitted Claude with a shrug of his shoulders. “But as long as we can work together it doesn't bother me.”

“So just how do you intend on cooperating with my father?” questioned Lorenz. “Catherine is correct. If we are going to be any more than a small fighting force, we will need the Alliance to be unified or this will be a quick resistance effort.”

All eyes turned to Claude as the Alliance leader smirked and hummed at the sudden attention being focused on him. “I guess that's my cue huh?” He stood up from his seat and proceeded down toward the opposite end, preparing himself to address the others. He ran a hand through his hair before crossing his arms against his chest and frowning. “I'm gonna be honest with all of you: we are definitely not in a good position, but then I'm sure you all knew that going in. Not much food, very few weapons to spare, and the only army we have for now is everyone in this room and the Knights outside. And on top of that now we know that at some point, and possibly soon, we're going to have a detachment of Imperial troops coming down on us once they figure out what's going on here. Hardly the best start to our resistance huh?”

“So what is your plan, Claude?” asked Seteth. “How do you intend on bringing the Alliance into the fold?”

“I have a plan for that, but first we-” Everyone's attention diverted toward the entrance where the doors creaked open, silencing Claude as they all turned to see who was interrupting him. Many eyes flashed as they bore witness to the woman entering the room, with Byleth being the first to greet the newcomer with a faint smile.

“Um...” uttered Dorothea nervously, overwhelmed at the sudden attention being focused on her and perhaps a little awkward to be stared at. Byleth could tell she felt somewhat uncomfortable not from that attention but more for the fact that, being that she was not a Golden Deer nor a member of the Church, she was quite out of place. She gave a tentative wave of her hand as she cleared her throat. “Hello everyone.”

“Hey Dorothea!” Hilda greeted excitedly before getting up and approaching the songstress. “It's so nice to see you after all these years!” The Goneril noble wrapped her arms around Dorothea and squeezed, eliciting a choked gasp from the latter.

“It's nice to see you again too, Hilda!” A small smile appeared on Dorothea's face after Hilda released her hold, grateful that someone was able to ease the tension she felt about being among people she once had to consider as enemies. “And... I had forgotten how strong you were.”

“I let them know you were coming,” Byleth informed.

“Oh! Thank you professor! I'm relieved that this wasn't more awkward than it already was.”

“He also told us,” Shamir interjected with a hint of more coldness than usual laced in her voice, “That you had information to share.”

The brunette hesitated for a moment, freezing in place from the icy greeting she got from the honorary knight. “Ah, right. That. I... suppose you want me to tell you the location of those Imperial soldiers then.”

“Show us on the map.” Dorothea flinched at the direct order, likely having forgotten Shamir's no-nonsense attitude after years of being away. She first looked over at the large map posted behind Claude, then down at Byleth, her eyes conveying a silent question. When he gave a quick nod, the brunette walked past the Golden Deer while Hilda returned to her seat. Passing by Claude, she studied the map carefully with a finger lightly touching her lips.

“Seteth,” Byleth whispered as he leaned in closer to his adviser “Dorothea asked if we could shelter some orphans she was caring for. She suggested they could help us with anything we needed.”

Seteth hummed and nodded. “Far be it for the Church to turn away children in need of a home. I will see what I can do with them.”

“Right here.” Dorothea said as she turned around for everyone to see. Sure enough, her finger was pressed against a spot on to the southeast along the Varley border, just like she had mentioned to Byleth. From where she was pointing the garrison was stationed between the two easternmost rivers that flowed through the territory.

“Good,” Shamir said flatly, paying no mind to how she just addressed the songstress. “I'll take a few of our scouts there later and begin assessing their strength.”

“Teach also mentioned you had something to tell us about Edelgard and your time in the Imperial army,” pointed out Claude with more warmth than Shamir could hope to match.

Dorothea glanced downcast at the floor, that same sullen look that she had when she first recounted her tale to Byleth. “I do. It's not the happiest of stories, but...” She looked up at her new comrades-in-arms. “Professor Byleth welcomed me here after hearing it. I hope that all of you will too, but I don't expect you to right away. After all we were enemies at one point, but if it means that I can be a part of this resistance and not have people eyeing me like I'm about to stab them in the back, then I will do whatever I have to to make that happen.”

While Dorothea began to regale them with the same tale that she had already told him, Byleth's mind began to wander back to the resistance's delicate situation. Understaffed, low resources, the only advantage he saw for them was that the Empire was unaware of their presence, but even that would not last. The garrison nearby would eventually see the amount of activity taking place at the monastery and would act to try and remove both key Alliance figures, and the Church's remaining leadership once and for all. One thing was certain in his mind: the garrison needed to go before they could expand their efforts. Whether that meant being discovered first, or assaulting it instead depended on how long before the resistance was ready, and whether or not luck was on their side.

Once that pressure was off, it would allow them to reach out to further villages and perhaps attract traveling merchants. While organized merchants like the Victor Trading Company may have a tougher time reaching them, more independent traders may take the great risk of coming to the monastery and to peddle their wares, especially since the marketplace remains vacant they would at least have a safe space to do so. At that point weapons and other equipment would be more readily available for them, and hopefully they could locate a blacksmith at the same time.

Food would be a trickier prospect. He was hoping that the nearby villages would be willing to sell some of their stockpiles, but they had to survive themselves. Merchants could try to bring food, but they had to be specialized for it for fear of spoiling, and organized companies, or even noble houses, would be much better equipped for that. The trouble was that friendly Alliance Houses would not be able to send their wares down, and any help from what remains of the Kingdom was nonexistent as they had their own side of the war to deal with.

Finally they had to contend with their numbers. The Knight of Seiros had dwindled in that regard, with many of them having died during the Battle of Garreg Mach, and along with what Seteth had informed him of many others had gone into hiding and had not followed him or the rest in their search for Rhea. And the Alliance would be unreliable for now. He was certain Claude already had an idea on how to rectify that, and hopefully he would fill them all in as to how they would go about bringing the Alliance into the fray. Knowing Claude, the man already had a scheme in mind for how to achieve that.

Byleth quietly took a deep breath. Regardless of whether they attacked or defended, he was going to be struggling to keep his friends alive. He already had plans for how to make the best use of their forces, but he was used to leading a small band of people, not an army. From his mercenary days to his time as a professor, it never got to the point of him being overwhelmed with being a field commander. He knew he was going to need help in that matter, and luckily he already had someone in mind for that.

After a few more minutes, Dorothea had finished and was sitting down next to Ignatz so she could be brought up to speed on what they had discussed prior to her arrival.

“Thank you for sharing all of that with us, Dorothea,” said Claude, who had sat down during her story and only now getting up to resume his portion of the council. “It was very insightful to say the least, and now we know what we're up against.”

“She's grown more isolated over the years...” Marianne thought aloud, seeming to empathize with the emperor. “And by keeping her friends away...” She trailed off and silently reflected on her similar yet opposite situation.

“She's also still using demonic beasts in her army,” Lysithea seethed, eliciting a raised eyebrow from Byleth. It was terrible to imagine, but she seemed to be particularly upset about it.

“And we're going to have to keep that in mind once we're ready to fight the Empire,” continued Claude. “And we won't be able to that without sufficient numbers on our side.”

“And just how exactly do you plan on bolstering our numbers?” Lorenz asked once more, slightly annoyed that Claude had yet to provide an answer on that matter.

“For the short-term I'll be writing back home to bring in my Immortal Corps. They're a group of wyvern riders I handpicked to serve as my own personal battalion, so they won't have any trouble getting here. As for unifying the Alliance, that will unfortunately have to come later. The Empire is breathing down our necks at the Great Bridge of Myrddin, and removing them from there would be the best way to get them off of our backs. First though, we'll need more troops and supplies before we'll be ready to even attempt that, and even before that we have to secure our hold here before tackling anything else. Which means the sooner we deal with that garrison the better.”

“So what's your plan for the garrison then?” Alois inquired. “If it won't be long before they find out what we're up to we had best be ready for them.”

Claude nodded. “For now we'll use the time we have to clean up the place and prepare. I'm more inclined to let them come to us rather than attack them directly. Using the free time we have to secure our base of operations right under the Empire's nose you know? When they come here, we'll have the home advantage, and... we'll have that little scheme I mentioned earlier that I'm working on.” When Lorenz opened his mouth to voice his concern again, Claude raised a hand. “I'll fill you all in once I solidify it. In the meantime, Teach, what are your plans for us on the battlefield?”

When all eyes shifted over to the other side, Byleth calmly straightened himself up and glanced from one side to other before speaking.

“Aside from Claude, some of you will be assigned a small battalion of knights to aid you in battle. Meet them, know them, train them. We won't be fighting against bandits now, and there are far more enemies to face. You will need to rely on them now more than ever. The rest of you who won't be assigned, I will pair you off with someone to compensate for yours or their weaknesses.” He could already see some of the others show some uncertain looks, but otherwise did not object to his decision. “When I learn more about the garrison and Claude's scheme, I will plan accordingly. Are there any questions?”

“Uh,” spoke a hesitant Hilda, “How soon will we know who are partners are?”

“Tomorrow. I will need to review each of your strengths and weaknesses first. Any other questions?” Eyes darted around at each other to see who would be the one to raise their hand, but ultimately no one responded. “Very well. You all remember your duties for this week. I will begin assigning new roles for all of you next week soon. Is there anything else anyone has to add?” Again there was no response. By now everyone knew what they were up against and no matter how anyone looked at it, they were fighting an uphill battle, but given that the alternatives would be surrender or death, they didn't have any other option now. “One more thing. Dorothea, meet me in the training grounds after lunch. I need to see how far you've advanced in your magic since I last saw you.”

“Okay. I'll be there.”

“Good. We'll meet again here next week to discuss any updates. Dismissed.” All at once everyone stood from their seats and began to file out. Byleth watched as they did so while contemplating their first war council. Aside from the beginning when he informed them all of Dorothea joining them and the brief spat between Lorenz and Claude, it had gone pretty smoothly, even if there wasn't much in the way of good news, but that was to be expected. He knew going in that they were going to be at a severe disadvantage given the state of the Alliance and the Empire. They were a small group compared to the might of the Empire, a pile of pebbles to a boulder. Given time and success, perhaps they might stand a better chance as they moved forward. Until then, he was going to be all the more swamped trying to keep at least those closer to him alive.

“Lysithea,” he said as the mage came close by, causing the woman to sharply rear her head toward him.“I'd like to speak to you privately.” Many a curious eye lay on her while they were leaving as she stood there in surprise from the sudden request.

“Uhh,” she answered as she quickly collected herself, “Okay.” The two of them watched as the remaining people left to resume their duties for the day and train. He would have to meet with the knights separately later on to let them know who they will be assigned as their commanders. For now, there was a more urgent matter to attend to.

As the last person left, Byleth stood up from his own seat and looked directly into her eyes.

“What is this about professor?” she was still speaking to him as before, but now with some curiosity as just what he had in store for her.

“There is something important I need to ask of you,” he began in his own usual tone, but then his brows knitted slightly, “But first I want to apologize for my questioning yesterday. I didn't know it was a sensitive subject. I didn't mean to upset you.”

Lysithea's eyes flashed as her mouth opened slightly, before her own brows knitted as she felt her skin prickle and let out a defeated sigh. “No, I should be the one apologizing, professor. It wasn't because you asked me that. After all it was a perfectly legitimate question given my behavior. I just felt guilty about snapping at you the way I did for something you didn't know. I should have apologized to you sooner, but... honestly I thought you were upset with me.”

His eyes widened. “What? I was never upset with you. I thought you were with me.”

“No! I-” Lysithea caught herself and realized what she was about to do. “We should probably accept that we're both at fault here for our misunderstanding, or else we'll be apologizing in circles. I would just... like us to go back and be friends again.”

Byleth didn't think they were ever suddenly not friends, but it was nice to be reminded that his students were more than just that to them. Lysithea in particular had always seemed to highly value their friendship more than the other Golden Deer, so to have this sort of contention between them, even if it was just a misunderstanding, had affected her and he took notice.

“I would like that too,” he let a smile linger for a moment and he saw the tension slip from her shoulders and return a relaxed smile to him. He always did like her smile. Perhaps it was because she did not show it very often and that's what made it all the more special to him. He was no expert at it, but having been a mercenary for so many years gave him plenty of opportunities to study when a smile was genuine and when it wasn't. That skill had helped him and Jeralt on many occasion to know when a client was being honest with them. It was how he could tell when Claude was being honest with it. With Lysithea, she always was with hers.

“I'm glad that that's settled,” she replied warmly before gesturing to him. “So what was it you wanted to ask me?”

“I would like your help for our future battles.” Lysithea's eyes widened at his request. If she wasn't curious before, she certainly was now.

“You want... my help?” she asked slowly, curiosity turning into confusion. “With what exactly?”

“Directing the others where to go on the battlefield. Relaying messages with your scrying.”

“You want me to be a tactician with you,” she breathed with growing realization. Her mouth hung open in shock. This was an unusual request coming from him. They of course had many sessions where he tested her on her ability to read a hectic and changing situation on the battlefield as they strove to improve her tactical skills. Yet when it came time for their monthly mission or if they were to go out and do field training, it was always him that lead them and directed them, with the only leadership she was expected to exude was with the battalion assigned to her. Now he was asking her to do what he had always done with him?

“That's right,” he answered back. She couldn't find any words for a moment. She felt a well of excitement rise up within her at the prospect of finally being able to put what she learned directly from him to use. His request stood as a testament to how much he had come to trust in her abilities and her keen mind, and she was more than happy to show him the fruits of their training.

Yet from that excitement came puzzlement. Why would he be asking this now of all times? He didn't have any trouble leading them before. She had yearned to put what he taught her to the test, but ultimately relented when she understood that he was able to lead them perfectly well on his own when it was just her and the other Golden Deer. So why... that's when it hit her.

“And that's because... you won't be able to command all of us yourself like you did at the Officers Academy. It's more than just the Golden Deer now.” Lysithea nodded in understanding. “I can see why you're asking. You never led an army before, so it would be wise to add more tacticians to ease the burden.”

Byleth closed his eyes and hummed. She had figured him out without ever needing to explain. She truly was his brightest student. “That's true. For now I can handle who we have, but that will change as the war goes on. I need someone to help me guide the others. We have worked on improving your tactics during school, and no it's time to put what you learn to greater use.”

She cupped her hand over her chin. The excitement was beginning to overpower who confusion, but one question still remained. “But... wouldn't Claude be better suited to discuss this with? He is the co-leader of the resistance after all, and while I hate to admit it he does have an impressive mind of his own.”

Byleth shook his head. “His strength lies in overall strategy and planning ahead. I need someone who can adapt to an ever-changing situation, and you have shown to be very capable of that. I will work with Claude on the path ahead, but I want to work with you for the battles to come.”

Lysithea felt a wave of heat flow through her. She was eager by her former professor wanting to work with her and have her be a co-tactician with him. While she had always deferred to him and his own prowess when she was a student, she had been eager to put what she had learn with the professor to the test and guide the other Deer on the field yet never did as to not subvert Byleth's authority. Her own choice of course, yet it vexed her that for all their time together she had to stifle what she learned. Now it was all going to come to fruition in the biggest way possible.

More importantly, she was humbled that he placed this level of trust in her abilities, in her. Ever since the Empire's cronies abandoned her family's territory she had always wanted to make up for everything her parents lost by granting them peace after she had gone. She wanted to be of real value to them rather than a burden placed on them after all they had suffered. Then the professor came into her life and not only had he helped her grow closer to accomplishing her life's goal, but treated her as she wanted to be treated: as equally as any other student. As a result she added him among her parents as someone she wanted to be of value to. That he now wanted her aid in something that he was a master of was now the prime opportunity to demonstrate it toward him.

“I would be glad to work with you professor,” she replied calmly, but couldn't help but smile brilliantly as she did so. “If I can help you increase our chances of winning this war and protect the others, then I look forward to resuming our training together and making that possible.”

Byleth returned a smile to her, grateful that she showed such a warm reception to the idea and the flame matched that heat. “I'm glad to hear it. Let's plan to do so beginning next week. In the evening once our duties for the day are complete.”

“Sounds good to me. Until then I will review what you taught me and prepare myself for our first session. As for today I need to get to work on organizing the library without further delay. It's a mess there... unless you have anything else for me?”

He shook his head. “No. That was it. I look forward to it Lysithea.”

The woman curtly nodded without losing her smile, then resumed her path to the door before stopping and twisting her body to him. “Professor?”

“Yes?”

The faintest of blushes stained her cheeks as she gazed at him. “I know I haven't said this before, but... it's good to have you back.” Without another word she left her former professor to stand there as his eyes trailed her leaving until she disappeared around the corner.

He was relived that his chat with Lysithea went over so well. It had been one of the only times there had ever been any animosity between him and someone he cared for and he did not relish the feeling of coldness that came with it in his chest. To be able to put that so quickly behind them was a burden that had lifted from his shoulders. He hoped that he could avoid that in the future if at all possible.

Especially if it meant he could see more of that smile of hers. Similar to Marianne, Lysithea had not smiled very often during the time he knew her as her professor, though for different reasons. When she did so he always knew that they were sincere and made her appear more vibrant. But a smile such as the one she gave when she said her answer was very rare and made him realize how cute she could be. Now though, it seem to accentuate her maturity and brought out the beauty she had gained from the past five years. He hoped to see more of that smile as they worked together.

He hummed to himself before proceeding to take his own leave and return to his duties. There were drills to be run with the knights, battalions to be assigned, pair-ups to be formulated, and now he had to prepare his evaluation with Dorothea and determine what new spells and skills she might have developed during his absence. Yet those tasks were the furthest things from his mind as he rounded the corner and went down the hall. Instead a persistent thought nagged at him. Just what was that intense pulse of heat he felt from the flame when Lysithea spoke to him as she left?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just what was that mysterious pulse he felt I wonder? He'll find out soon enough.
> 
> Another chapter down! Next one I plan to have be shorter than... all of them at this point (though given my history, who knows right?) Except plot twist, it will be all about Edelgard and what's become of her over the course of that five year gap. Think it's about time we got to see things from her perspective and how she feels about how everything's gone for, and her relation with Byleth in this too. It will be an interesting experience for me to say the least.


	8. Loose Ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Edelgard reflects on what has transpired before and during the war, a messenger arrives with news about the activity taking place at Garreg Mach. What should be cause for joy at the prospect of ending the Church's part of the war only leads to more questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 14 of the Guardian Moon, Imperial Year 1186

She stepped into her room at an easy pace, closing the door behind her without even bothering to look. Night had fallen by this point and she was just glad to have returned to see the moonlight pouring in off to the side, illuminating her room with its ethereal glow. As expected her room was neat and tidy, the servants having long since done their part to keep the place clean while she was away. The queen-sized bed's sheets were straightened to the point of no wrinkles, the giant rug with the symbol of the Empire was and clean and matted, the floor swept free of any hint of dust, and all of the knick-knacks from long past neatly arranged on the various shelves that lined the room

Edelgard let a quiet, yet contented sigh escape as a faint smile grazed her lips. It was these small pleasures that eased her mood just a little from the hectic life she lived now. With little time to indulge in more leisurely matters she took whatever respite offered toward her, even something as trite as a pristine room to come home to.

Just as quickly as the smile appeared did it fade away as she made her way over to her desk. A stack of papers were piled neatly in its center, no doubt brought in by Hubert during her absence. Her day had been filled with inspections of the troops at Fort Merceus and Enbarr itself to oversee progress on their replenishing of personnel and supplies. Five years of war had taken its toll on her military might, and the people of Faerghus had been more defiant than she suspected. Though there was still fierce resistance from the likes of the Fraldarius, Gautier, and Galatea families, without a Kingdom to support them they would eventually be forced to submit. Still, the worst of the fighting in Faerghus was now behind her and what forces that remained there were to ensure that there would be no uprisings in the Dukedom, nor to allow an opening for the Kingdom to exploit and reclaim what they lost.

Now with the Faerghus war theater drawing to a close, it was time to focus on the Alliance which had been neutral during these five years, something to which she was grateful for, allowing her to focus most of her efforts on the former. With the Alliance divided the way it was, they would have been of little consequence regardless, especially with Count Gloucester having submitted to vassalage as quickly as he did, followed by Count Ordelia and Duke Goneril later on. According to reports the infighting between those that supported the Empire and those who didn't kept them from properly mobilizing their forces and turning them into a unified nation. A little pressure here and there from Hubert kept Gloucester in line, while Ordelia would never be able to raise a sufficient force to resist their entrance into Alliance territory, and Goneril had to contend with the Almyrans.

There was little doubt in her mind that that was all subject to change the moment they began their assault, but it would be far too late to muster an army large enough to combat her. With Claude having kept the Alliance out of the war for now, not even he or his own allies would be strong enough to stop an attack on Deirdru. With Gloucester's continued cooperation it would lead to as little bloodshed as necessary in order to quickly put in end to that theater and finally wrap up the Faerghus campaign.

Which was where she was at now as she sat down at her desk. She lost many troops taking most of Faerghus even with the coup that took place soon after the war began. With winter having since settled in she decided now was a good time to let her soldiers rest and prepare while she bolstered her forces in anticipation for the campaign in the Alliance. She hoped it to be far quicker given its division, but she was ready for the worst. Though they were not unified, depending on Gloucester's disposition that was subject to change. The Count was more loyal to the Alliance than her and could be quietly building up his own forces in anticipation of her assault. When the time came he could suddenly changes sides and resist her entrance into the Alliance and with it more needless bloodshed would take place.

Yet that wasn't what concerned her the most about the Alliance. She was far more suspicious as to what Claude was planning behind the scenes. The man was irritating during her year at the Officers Academy, but she couldn't deny the man was shrewd, worryingly so. Though he had kept the Alliance out of the war for now, she couldn't help but suspect that such a maneuver was always a part of his plan. Such was the reputation of the “Master Tactician” as he had come to be known in the Alliance. Just as likely that the situation there had his hands tied, so to could it be that pieces were falling into place for him, and it was only a matter of time before he enacted whatever scheme he had in mind. She understood that about the Alliance going into this war once Claude had declared themselves neutral. In the back of her mind during the Faerghus campaign she always held that suspicion about him, and the closer she came to fully mobilizing against the Alliance, that suspicion only grew.

She wondered briefly if she was walking into a trap, but waved it off. Whether it was or not, she would have more than adequate forces to overwhelm whatever it was he had planned for her. It would be preferable if he were to just surrender before any more bloodshed took place, but she doubted it and had long since steeled herself for it. She knew this path would be a difficult and bloody one, but it was the best way forward. If only everyone else in Fódlan could see that, then perhaps there would not have been so much violence and death as she painted the cobblestones of her path red with their blood. It was a terrible burden she had to bear, but she felt that fate had forced her into this position and she was going to press on no matter what obstacle was in her way. Fódlan needed to be freed from the goddess and her servants in order for it to grow and allow everyone to decide their own futures, free from the tyranny of Crests and the nobles who abuse them for their own ends. It was a future worth fighting for and she would see it through to the bitter end.

She just wish she didn't have to walk it alone.

She paused momentarily from the report she was reading, closing her eyes and letting out a quiet sigh. She had accepted a long time ago that the path she faced would potentially be a lonely one. Sure she had Hubert by her side, but he would have followed her to the flames of eternity without question, let alone Fódlan's reformation. All conversations with him were the same: the latest report from the front, updates on the army's size, political happenings in the other territories. It was almost always the task at hand with him, and not someone she could just... talk to.

She had that once before, back during her days as a student at the Officers Academy. That had been at least one positive of going to Garreg Mach Monastery, being able to interact with other students in a relatively equal environment. Her classmates were mostly other nobles, but it had been pleasing to interact with them not as heirs to their houses, but as just people to simply socialize with. It had given her the opportunity to see what life could be like if she didn't have the weight of the world on her shoulders, and just as much as she was casually holding conversations with them, so to was she gauging them to see if they would be dependable allies in her goals. Would they understand her and join her on her path, or would they end up being obstacles that would have to be pushed aside?

As it happened, the latter was ultimately what occurred. Despite the camaraderie they had as fellow students of hers, in the end the Black Eagles still stood against her. It didn't pain her as much as it might have, having accepted her solitary role in heralding Fódlan's new dawn, but it was regrettable all the same. It would have at least made the path she walked easier on her, knowing that there were several familiar faces ready to aid her in her goals, but similar to her they had made their choice that day at the Battle of Garreg Mach. The only thing that stayed her hand in not punishing them more severely after the battle was their past relation with her. And if she were honest with herself, she couldn't bring herself to do it before because of it, but whatever friendship she had with them disappeared after that point. All they had become now were elite soldiers, and she wasn't about to waste their talents by having them killed.

She let out another quiet sigh and placed the paper down. By now she had gone only through a quarter of the stack, and even then she wasn't really paying attention anymore. The thought of her time at the Officers Academy had been the highest point of her life, a glimpse into what a life what might be like if things were different for her, and reflecting on it made a tiny part of her yearn for that once more.

Thinking about how her former classmates might have been at her side was making her nostalgic. She had hoped that they would understand and side with her, but even before then they could not match up to her expectations. They were never people she was able to confide in, to be what she wished to be, and that was because of one underlying fact that laid within every interaction she had with them, one thing that truly prevented them from ever being the companions she had hoped to have on her journey.

They could not meet her gaze.

That had been the most vexing part of it all. No matter what environment they were in, no matter how much she tried to insist, they knew she was the heir to the throne in the Empire and that shadow followed her everywhere. Petra with her people's political vulnerability to the Empire, Ferdinand always trying to prove superior to her in anything he tried, Bernadetta who was frightened by her mere presence, Dorothea by virtue of being a commoner, Linhardt who sometimes found her to be overbearing, Caspar and his hotheadedness, and Hubert who was and is always her loyal servant. All of them instinctively knew their place when compared to her as much they tried to hide it. There was only one person of all those she had met at the Academy that stood above them and spoke with her as though her position was irrelevant to how he interacted with her.

She walked over to the window and gazed out at the city below her as her brows knitted in remorse. Professor Byleth was a unique individual, fully capable as a mercenary, an excellent teacher, and unconcerned with social class. What made him stand out however was his personality. Being an emotionless person, it made him non-judgmental and allowed those to come to him and expunge their problems while he listened and offered pointed advice. For someone who had spent so much of his life isolated from all of Fódlan, from the Church to people in general, he showed a remarkable amount of wisdom.

Perhaps that was why she had grown fond of the man. In many ways she, too, felt detached from the rest of Fódlan and sought some sort of companion, a kindred spirit, to relay her more inner thoughts to. She was still testing him of course, needing to know if he would be a dependable ally for her goals or be just one more individual she would have to kill in order to see those goals realize, but she did find herself genuinely enjoying her time with him. They would sometimes have tea together where they would discuss politics and how they both viewed them, or it would be lighter topics such as their favorite foods, to which she found surprising that he had none. It made her wonder as to why she felt so drawn to him, as though some invisible force was compelling her to approach him and speak with him and encourage him to see the truth of Fódlan so that he would join her on her walk down the path she set for herself.

That answer seemed to come the moment it was discovered that he bore the Crest of Flames. Suddenly she had begun wondering as to how he obtained it and, given her own experiences with her own Crest, presumed that he too had the goddess's Crest artificially implanted within him. Regardless, now he was someone that not only was she interested in as a person, but she had discovered that he was in fact a kindred spirit by virtue of bearing the most powerful of Crests along with her.

She began to probe him afterward to see if she could somehow sway him to join her on her path, not only for the power he wielded but to also be able to share in the new Fódlan she intended on creating. The topic of what her plans never came up directly. War would have been a sensitive subject for anyone to discuss, especially when it involved going against an institution that had ingrained itself in so many facets of Fódlan's system. She wanted him beside her so that there might be someone close to her that could see that future she desired to forge.

But being able to somehow convince him to join her was an uphill battle. Friends as they were, he had chosen to teach the Golden Deer House and with that had more of an affinity toward them than he did with her or the Black Eagles. Getting him to understand Fódlan's deep-rooted troubles with its current system was one thing; getting him to sympathize with her and change his allegiance from both the Golden Deer and the Church was an entirely different battle. It was one that she was not naive about her chances, but nevertheless she attempted it as she felt it would be worth it in the end.

Then her associates became involved, and she clenched her fists at the mere thought of them and what they did. They must have seen her growing attachment to the professor, and so installed one of their own to keep an eye on her. “Monica” always kept her occupied with her constant pestering which, while on the surface would appear innocent enough as a once-thought-dead student trying to ensure she graduated that year, the emperor knew for certain that it was just a means to make sure she stayed in line and remained dependent on them. And she was forced to play along in order to keep the up the ruse despite knowing exactly who Monica really was in order to ward off any doubts from her associates. There were times that she was able to get away, but regardless it diminished the time she could spend with the professor and it did have an impact when they began to escalate their brazenness.

First it was the incident at Remire Village, where Solon and his lackeys had driven much of the population insane with an experiment. The reality of it all was their attempt to drive a wedge between Byleth and her by virtue of her association with them as the Flame Emperor. They had specifically targeted Remire Village due to his and his father's fondness for the quaint locale, and their anger over what occurred there was apparent on their faces when she came to speak with them under her disguise. She tried to defend herself from being involved in it, and in truth she had no idea what they were planning, even trying to persuade them to aid her, but as expected from those events they did not budge. Her prospects of convincing the professor were grim by that point.

What happened afterward had been the final nail in the coffin of her ever bringing him on to her side. Once again her associates drew out Byleth and his father, this time to deal with an actual experiment of theirs in turning students into demonic beasts via Crest Stone shards. The nature of the experiment had already been bad enough, but what shocked and angered her most was Monica's sudden action of murdering Jeralt right in front of his son.

She hung her head and closed her eyes in remorse. She knew in her heart by that point that there was little chance of him ever siding with her. It was over for her in trying to find a companion to share in her dream for a better Fódlan, even before her identity was revealed in the Holy Tomb. She had reached out her hand to him, but her associates forced her to soar away back down the path of loneliness.

Edelgard gritted her teeth as she hummed a low growl. Once again her associates took something away from her in order to remove all distractions and focus on achieving their goals. She knew going in originally meant that she would have to walk it alone regardless of who her allies were, but such an arduous task would have been easier if someone was there, someone that could help her break free from her shackles that her associates bound her with. Instead she was now utterly alone in her endeavor, and while it ultimately changed nothing about her intentions, there was now no one she could personally share in her dream. A regrettable outcome, but once the war was finished and Fódlan united, there would be nowhere left for her associates to hide and they would get theirs soon enough.

She gently placed her gauntleted hand on the window, her forehead following suit. It was times like these when she often wondered how different things could have been in her life. Would she have been a follower of the Church's teachings had the Insurrection of the Seven never occurred? She shook her head. Not possible. The Empire had ousted the Church's influence for over a century, but perhaps her reign might have eased tensions, especially with her admittance to the Officers Academy? Possible, but given the corruption of the nobles, their obsession with Crests ruining the lives of so many around them, and the Church doing nothing to cease it despite its own teachings, she found this war to be inevitable anyway.

It did bring up another question though. From what she learned and observed, the entirety of Fódlan was a powder keg after so many centuries of Crest-bearers letting their “divine providence” inflate their egos and use them as a means to control the less fortunate. So if not her, would someone else have uprooted the Church and brought change to Fódlan? Would they have done things differently? She didn't see how war would not have been involved. The Church was far too dug in to lessen its own influence, and with no inclination from Rhea of stepping down, or even reforming her own institution, the only way to bring about change was war. The alternative was to continue to let others suffer from an obsolete and abusive system, and she was not about to let that happen, nor did she think anyone else would. War was unsavory, she'll admit, but it was necessary.

Then there was the more personal question. What if the professor had chosen her house? It would have certainly allowed for more time for them to work together as teacher and house leader. She had considered him a close friend, but how much closer would they have become if such a scenario was a reality? Would he have sympathized more with her cause? Would he have stepped over to her side at the Holy Tomb when Rhea ordered him to execute her? As much as she had known her lonely path, there was a reason why she went to the Academy, and that was to find someone to reach her hand out to and to have someone to pull her out of the darkness she found herself in by being aligned with her associates. As useful as they were, she was disgusted with what they did, both to her and to innocent people, and wanted a way out while also keeping them placated. Byleth had been the best choice in that regard with the strength he commanded.

But no, he had made his choice, and now he was an enemy just like anyone else who stood in her way, as it much as it saddened her to view him as such. Still, she could not ignore the power he wielded, so when it was reported to her after the Battle of Garreg Mach that the professor was blown off a cliff, she sent a search party to recover his body and confirm it. He was the biggest threat to her goals, and she needed to know for sure of his demise... and to give him a proper burial. Yet there was no trace of where he was predicted to have fallen, and it was not possible to survive a fall from that height. She did wonder if the goddess's power might have done something to spare him, but when he never showed up for months afterward she was able to relax a little more. The greatest obstacle had been removed, yet she felt a mixture of both relief and remorse at it.

It was tragic that he was gone. Such a unique and fascinating individual, only to choose to be on the wrong side of history, and it cost him his life. If only he-

There was a knock on the door, followed by another and it brought her out of her reverie. She straightened herself out before turning to face it.

“Who is it?” she asked, her voice firm with authority, not to show any signs of the slight annoyance she felt about being interrupted.

“Just I, Your Majesty,” came the answer from an all too familiar, sinister-sounding voice. It did nothing to relax her for she knew the general reason why he came, but at least she knew it would be important.

“You may enter, Hubert.” The Marquis Vestra opened the door slowly at first, before doing so more casually once he had made sure he was not totally intruding. He placed his hand across his chest and bowed.

“Pardon the intrusion, Lady Edelgard, but a messenger has arrived and has been urgently requesting to see you.”

Edelgard placed a hand on her hip. She had intended to go back to reading through the reports before turning in for the night, but as she frowned she knew well enough that her work was never truly done. “At this late an hour?”

Hubert nodded. “Indeed. Ordinarily I would have held off on informing you until morning, but this messenger comes from General Randolph's forces.”

Edelgard's eyes widened briefly. For Randolph to have sent a messenger now could only mean one thing.

“I see. I will meet with this messenger immediately then. Take me to them.”

“Of course.” The emperor took a few steps to approach him before they left together, the raven-haired man closing the door behind them and followed her down the hall.

While on the way Edelgard began formulating an idea as to why the messenger was here. Randolph and his troops had the rather unique assignment of keeping watch over the monastery for any signs of activity from the Church. It had meant that they were far from the fighting, but the Church had never been dissolved since the battle that took place five years ago, and many of the Knights of Seiros were still out there, fruitlessly searching for Rhea. To that end the general and his troops had the important task of ensuring that if the Knights decided to return, that they would be ready to wipe out the last remnants of the Church.

Of all times she expected them to return, it was a few weeks ago upon the one-thousand year anniversary of the establishment of Garreg Mach Monastery. If the messenger was here, it only meant that her suspicions had been correct, but something still puzzled her deeply. Why had Randolph only sent a messenger now? It wasn't a long travel time between their encampment and Enbarr, but it was the middle of the Guardian Moon and he chose only now to send word of activity? It troubled her as to how that could be, and hopefully she would get answers soon enough.

After a few more minutes, they made it to the throne room and all its splendor. While not as lucrative as one might expect, it was immense in its size, with a large dais covered by a large, red rug that traveled down the length of it and up to a smaller dais where a solitary throne sat and was perhaps the most glamorous thing in the room. The roof was held up by several marble columns, and the tall windows in the front above the main entrance let the light of the moon pour through and give the same glow as her own quarters did, allowing her to see the messenger in question awaiting the two of them at the base of the main dais.

When the messenger, a pegasus knight from the look of her, noticed them approaching her, she quickly bowed to the ones greatly above her station.

“Your Majesty!” she exclaimed, appearing to be quite nervous about addressing the emperor herself. “F-forgive my arrival at this time of night!”

Edelgard held up her hand. “Never mind that. I am told you have come from General Randolph's forces. If that is true I presume you have news about activity at Garreg Mach.”

The messenger nodded. “Yes, Your Majesty. The scouts have reported seeing knights traveling to nearby villages with gold, and coming away with food and other supplies. When they trailed them to the monastery, they noticed that there were more knights in the abandoned towns clearing away bodies. They were even able to catch glimpses of villagers on scaffolding and repairing the monastery's exterior.”

That captured Edelgard's attention as her eyes flashed. She expected that they would be there for the anniversary, but what she wasn't expecting was for them to be lingering there for longer than that, though it makes sense given that the messenger is only now arriving. If they were leaving the monastery for supplies, and even repairing the damage she let her troops do to it, then it only meant that they were making themselves right at home under her nose... and perhaps there was more to it.

“No doubt they arrived for what would have been the millennium festival,” Hubert mused as he crossed his arms over his chest before chuckling lightly. “Their dedication to that place is almost admirable. I wonder if they thought that Rhea would make a miraculous appearance on such an important day. Fools.”

“That they're settling in as though they aren't wanted across the Empire is insulting to say the least,” remarked Edelgard as her brows furrowed.

“From what we were able to assess, my lady,” the messenger continued, “Their movements seem to be with purpose. It's as if they are aware of our position, and are doing their best to avoid detection.”

“Hard to believe,” commented an unimpressed Hubert. “They were to be arrested or killed on sight the moment they entered Empire territory. They wouldn't have any prior knowledge of it... unless...” Hubert looked at Edelgard and the emperor matched her vassal's icy gaze, both of them nodding and coming to the same conclusion.

“Dorothea.” They had both known about Dorothea's desertion some time ago, but given what they had to contend with at the time and afterward, searching for her was low on the priority list. While the other Black Eagles were still in her army, Dorothea had shown to be the most against the methods Edelgard employed to achieve her ends. A part of her was impressed that Dorothea was even able to escape as the general of the regiment she was once a part of was told to keep an eye on her. Now there was this, and if Dorothea were captured she would have to regrettably make an example of her for betraying the Empire twice.

“She had always shown the most discomfort for the conflict,” she stated as she frowned. “That she would now give away the location of our troops to the enemy...”

“Why would she even bother aiding the Church?” Hubert pondered, tilting his head down in thought. “She was never one for the faith to begin with, and if she is siding with them it will only lead to her death.”

“Which leads me to believe that the Church is mobilizing for another attempt at stopping me.” Her brows remained furrowed, but now out of confusion rather than annoyance as she pinched her chin. “But why now though? The day of the millennium festival is not enough of a reason to think anything has changed for them between when the war began and today.”

Hubert nodded. “It would be foolhardy of them to try an assault against us. With so many of their numbers either in hiding or dead they would be wiped out in the first battle.”

“If I may, my lady?” cautiously interrupted the messenger, causing both of them to jolt their heads toward her.

“If you have any more to tell us then let's hear it,” sternly said Hubert as he began to furrow his own brows.

“Well... we haven't been able to confirm it, but there have been sightings of someone riding a wyvern on occasion and flying over the forested areas around the monastery, presumably for hunting. We haven't been able to get close to the monastery grounds recently, but the scouts have said that there was an orange glow coming from the rider. We believe it to be a Heroes Relic.”

Now even Hubert's eyes widened at the revelation, but only for a brief moment before a sly smile etched itself on his countenance. “That can only mean one thing: the source of that glow must be Failnaught.”

A small, confident smile graced the emperor's lips. “So, Claude has finally decided to act? I always knew his neutrality ploy was a ruse, but I do have to thank him for not making this a two-front war. And he begins with allying with what's left of the Knights of Seiros...”

“Entirely possible that he has no troops of his own there,” her adviser commented. “We would have received word from Count Gloucester far sooner if that were the case. If this is his idea of engaging us, then perhaps his title of 'Master Tactician' was made in jest rather than with any credence to it.”

Her face returned to a more neutral visage to not get ahead of herself. “Even so, he is crafty in battle, and his Relic affords him great power. He is not to be underestimated.” She turned her attention to the messenger “Hubert will begin drafting a message for you to take to General Randolph to mobilize his troops and prepare to attack the monastery.”

The soldier bowed to her. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“I will also be sending another detachment of troops to bolster his forces for the battle ahead,” Edelgard continued. “Assuming Thunder Catherine is among the knights, there will be two Relics that they will have to contend with. It is also highly likely that he brought friends with him as well.”

“Friends?”

“A fair point,” Hubert remarked. “While I'm not sure what spurred him to it aside from desperation, the man is too clever for his own good. He will have brought allies with him, quite possibly his former classmates.”

“You have done well to bring this news to us,” addressed Edelgard to the messenger “Rest in the castle barracks tonight and be prepared to return to your garrison in the morning. My message will be ready by then.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” With one final bow, the knight made her way over to the towering double doors that led into the grand hall, opening them just enough to let herself out before the guards on the other side closed them behind her, leaving the emperor and her vassal to contemplate in silence.

“Now that the theater is over,” Hubert uttered, “What are your suspicions Lady Edelgard?”

Edelgard turned to look through one of the windows and took a few steps to approach it, glaring intently as her brow furrowed again. As much as she wanted to enjoy the opportunity to end this war in one fell swoop, she still felt as though something was off about all of this. Claude had always frustrated her in more ways than one, but perhaps most of all was that the man could be unpredictable, his mind working in ways that not even Hubert could match.

“Why now...” she wondered aloud as she placed a fist on her hip. “He had the perfect chance to attack us while we were focused on the Kingdom, yet he did nothing but profess the Alliance's neutrality. What changed? What are you up to, Claude?”

She heard Hubert approach her and join her at her side, tilting his head to face her. “I wish I could believe that this is his attempt at a last-ditch effort, but the man is ambitious himself, and it is unlikely he would act unless he knew he had some way of catching us by surprise.”

Edelgard frowned as she tried to search for an answer, but all that fluttered around her mind were questions. “To wait five years until what would have been the millennium festival and only now does he make his move...”

“Then we have to consider why the Knights of Seiros joined him as well.” Hubert crossed his arms over his chest. “They have nowhere near the strength that we have despite their reputation. Our numbers are far too great for them to challenge without risk of being wiped out. How was he able to convince them to throw their lives away?”

Edelgard wrenched her eyes shut. As ever Claude continued to be an enigma to her, and the last thing she needed was having unknowns crop up along her path. She huffed before opening them again. “I suppose we will find out soon enough.”

Hubert slightly raised a curious brow. “Will you not be joining the assault on the monastery? Your power would be useful in bringing down the Alliance leader given he wields a Relic of his own.”

“Perhaps, but he is not the professor. Even with his Relic, with the additional troops I'm sending they should be more than enough to handle the remnants of the knights and whoever else Claude may have brought with him.” She began walking toward the way they came in, with Hubert following close behind. “I must be here for when we receive word of Randolph's success or failure. However the result, we can use this as evidence that he violated the Alliance's neutrality and prepare to invade the moment the Great Tree Moon arrives.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” he said, bowing to her while not losing a beat. “Before we depart soon, there is one more matter I wished to bring to your attention.”

Edelgard glanced at him. “And that is?”

“While you were away, we received correspondence from Lord Arundel.” Hubert's brow furrowed slightly and muttered the noble's name with a hint of venom laced in it.

Edelgard continued her walk back to her room without even flinching at the name, despite the level of contempt she held for it. “No doubt my uncle will be arriving to refresh his supply of blood from her. I despise giving him what he wants, but until this war is over I will continue to cooperate with him.”

A small, but wicked smile appeared on the Marquis's face. “Once we are finished uniting Fódlan, he and his kind will get theirs in due time.”

Edelgard gave a curt nod. “Indeed.”

Having the name of her “uncle” brought up again made her blood boil. He wasn't always the cold-hearted and uncaring man he was today. Before she went down this path, he had been her kind, pious caretaker, helping her and her mother to shepherd themselves away to Faerghus during the Insurrection of the Seven so that they would at least be safe. During their time there, though she never learned how, he began acting far differently than the man she once knew, and it wasn't until later on that she discovered that he had been replaced by Thales, the leader of her associates.

Her hands clenched into fists as she thought of the name again. It was him that manipulated the events of the Insurrection. It was he that lead the efforts of his underlings to turn her into what she was today. It was he who continued to hold a knife to her throat to secure her cooperation with him and his kind. It was he who delivered the killing blow to Professor Byleth. Rhea may have perpetuated and maintained the system that was ruining so many lives, but Thales was the one who ruined her own life. He was the only person in Fódlan she loathed more than the former archbishop, and she would enjoy driving her axe through him once she had accomplished her dream.

They arrived back at her room with Hubert stopping a few steps behind her.

“I will begin working on the letter to General Randolph,” he informed. “I will have it ready for you to sign first thing in the morning.”

She spun around to face her most trusted, and now only, friend. “Thank you, Hubert. Is that all for tonight?”

“Anything else is trivial enough to wait until tomorrow.”

“Very well. Good night then, Hubert.”

“Sleep well, Lady Edelgard.” The Marquis bowed deeply before turning and proceeding to his own quarters, leaving Edelgard to watch him go and once more wonder what life could have been like had things gone differently. Her siblings, her family, the Black Eagles, the professor. So much taken away, so much she might have had.

She sighed mournfully, knowing that it was pointless to continue with these thoughts. This was her path now, to be the catalyst for the change Fódlan so desperately needed, no matter what it took.

She just wish she didn't have to walk it alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So ends my first chapter featuring Edelgard and her point of view. I do intend on including a few more down the line, even with her speaking with an imprisoned Rhea and seeing what sort of conversations they may end up having.
> 
> I may be slower in putting out the next chapter as I am currently collaborating with my fellow Bysithea writer kenji1104 on a oneshot that will be featuring smut too, so count on that coming out in the near future!


	9. The Alliance Leader's Ambitions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Preparations continue to move forward as the resistance prepares for the clash with a nearby Empire encampment. While waiting, Byleth discovers just what Claude ultimately hopes to accomplish by the war's end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 22nd Day of the Guardian Moon, Imperial Year 1186.

“What was it you wanted to show me, Claude?” Byleth had been summoned by his former house leader to the training grounds for what the latter deemed to be a surprise. Knowing Claude, it did make him a little antsy about what to expect from the schemer, but judging from the way the man's body language was he must have been proud and eager to show his professor what he had in store for him. Hand on one hip and a wide, confident smile on his face put him a little more at ease, which was strange considering Claude's penchant for hiding his true intentions behind it, yet this one appeared genuine to him.

“It's finally done, Teach!” Claude exclaimed as he swept his other arm to the side. Two knights that had been in the shadows, taking that as their cue, approached the leaders while carrying a thin, wooden cross with a roll of cloth bundled up along the horizontal beam. They sat it down before the resistance leaders and, after unbinding the tie in its center, the cloth unfurled to reveal the banner's design. Its edges were golden all around that surrounded the black and red interior. More gold designs in the interior made it out to look like rising flames, but what really drew the attention in was the symbol above them: the Crest of Flames.

Seeing the banner made Byleth feel a slight discomfort come over him. While he certainly understood the importance of having them, to rally and unify the troops fighting under it, it seemed more that they were glorifying him in this case. The three different regions each had their own flags that symbolized their respective lands, but in this case it was not the Church's emblem. It appeared that they were less fighting for a homeland, and more that they were fighting for him.

“What do you think?” asked an intrigued Claude. “Awe-inspiring isn't it? Ignatz really outdid himself drawing this up for us.”

“It feels vain to me,” Byleth grimaced. He knew it was coming given that every major decision like this goes to him as co-leader and he and Claude had discussed it prior to this unveiling, but to see it brought to life now only reminded him how reluctant he had been agreeing to the design in the first place. He simply wanted to lead and protect his students as he had done before, not be propped up as some sort of savior.

“I can see how you'd think that,” Claude nodded as he turned to marvel at their creation. “But you did agree to the final look of it. Besides, it wouldn't look good for any of us to fly either the Church or Alliance banners. The Church isn't fighting for the Alliance, and the pro-Imperial lords back home would just revolt if they found out we were using that banner to attack their benefactors.”

“And you and the other former students don't serve the Church,” Byleth added.

Claude turned to face his friend with a smirk. “Yet here we are, Alliance citizens and Church knights working together to accomplish the same goal: defeating the Empire. With you leading us.”

“You're a leader too, Claude.”

Claude ran a hand through his hair awkwardly. “True, but I don't hold nearly as much sway with the Knights as you do. I doubt they would have agreed to align with us, let alone even think about fighting back, without you here. You remember what Seteth said on the millennium festival, yeah? They had been looking for Rhea that whole time because they otherwise didn't have a leader to push them down this path. Without you the knights might have just kept looking or even given up.”

Byleth looked back at the Crest adorning the banner and went up next to Claude. He couldn't deny the unifying power it seemed to have on everyone here. It was the Crest of the goddess, and it was a reminder to his students of the one who currently bore it. He was the archbishop now, however temporary it would be, and he was their professor that brought them together. If his Crest inspired them all to charge ahead, he could put aside his discomfort for their sake.

“Thanks for that, by the way,” Claude said as he turned toward his friend. “If it wasn't for you, the knights never would have joined our cause. I could never pay you back for that.”

Byleth just glanced at the man. “You're welcome, though you were insistent.”

“Come on, Teach,” Claude flinched, not expecting his professor to call him out like that. “Fódlan is on the cusp of a transformation. Now isn't the time to sit this one out, not when you have the ability to help bring about that change.”

Byleth only turned his head toward Claude. “Edelgard is bringing about that transformation too. From what I understand she intends to make Fódlan better for everyone. Why not just let her?”

Claude only looked up at the sky, apparently going deep into thought. “You know, during the early parts of the war... I had actually considered it. One aspect of her goals for the war was to remove the Church, or at least not make them nearly as far-reaching as they were before. But then I remembered that she plans on unifying Fódlan for the first time in two-hundred and fifty years, and I could use that to my advantage for my own dreams.”

The archbishop now turned toward Claude, intrigued at what his friend meant. “What do you mean?”

Claude smirked at his former professor while glancing to the two knights still at attention next to the banner. “I'll tell you about them in a little bit. Right now we have an announcement to make don't we?”

Byleth nodded, remembering that they were only meant to be here for a few minutes to show him the finished product. He directed his attention toward the knights. “Bring the banner with us to the reception hall. Everyone should have gathered there by now.”

“Ah, but wait until I give you the signal to present it to them,” added Claude with a grin, “Wouldn't be much of an announcement without a little flair would it?” The knights bowed in understanding before lifting up the banner and following the two leaders out of the training grounds.

As they proceeded toward the reception hall, Byleth took note of the builders still hard at work repairing the damage wrought to the monastery. With little in the way of trade happening, it was difficult to get the supplies they needed to make more proper repairs and instead they had to resort to fallen rubble scattered throughout the grounds to patch up the outer walls. It was not much, but it did at least have enough of a noticeable effect that he could see progress being made.

What had really helped their cause was the willingness for the villagers to sell some of their food to the resistance. Luckily as their numbers were small for the time being they didn't have to spend nearly as much to keep everyone fed, but the matter remained that as their numbers grew so too did the amount of food they needed to keep everyone happy.

With the amount of preparation they had so far, he and Claude originally had to make a decision as to whether to keep biding their time or to engage the encampment that kept them from spreading out. When Shamir and her scouts brought back word it was mobilizing, it had made the decision easier for them to instead hold their ground and wait for the Empire to come to them. What was more troubling was the report that their numbers had grown from prior reconnaissance missions, which could only mean that Edelgard was aware of their presence. As to whether or not she was aware that he was alive and leading the resistance he couldn't say, but considering that there was no word about her arriving at the encampment he could assume that she wasn't.

Still, despite the increased count of soldiers arriving at the encampment, they were prepared. After some searching through some of the more secure areas of the monastery, they found a stockpile of explosives that sat unused in an underground storehouse that Seteth knew the whereabouts of. They would have been used before had the Church not been concerned about preserving some of the homes and shops that dotted the surrounding town, but with the occupants long gone and much of them damaged beyond repair anyway there was no such worry anymore. The explosives had been set up at specific locations to maximize the damage they could cause to the larger army. There were barely any objections to so blatantly destroy the town, but ultimately the dissent was quieted when realizing that it would give them the greatest chance of success.

Once they entered the reception hall, Claude gave the two knights brief instructions to wait out in the hall and be ready for when he calls them in with a cue before the two leaders stepped inside the main room. It was filled to capacity at the lower level with the Golden Deer situated up front and the staff filling in behind them, and a handful of knights on the walkways above that surrounded the floor. The room had been filled with murmurs of small talk and wonderment of what to expect before it all fell silent the moment the leaders of the Alliance and Church walked in.

“Thanks for coming everyone!” Claude began as he rested a hand on his hip. “Now listen up! I have a proposal. We are now building our forces in order to rise up against the Imperial army, but it wouldn't be smart for us to fight under the banner of the Alliance. That would only incite the lords who support the Empire. And we've also combined forces with the Knights of Seiros. So I got to thinking that we should be operating under a new symbol as proof of this union. That's why Teach and I have prepared this...”

Claude swung his free arm toward the direction they came from while Byleth turned with him. Understanding their cue, the two knights brought out the unfurled banner for all to see, bringing murmurs throughout the crowd as they gazed upon the fabric.

“You may recognize it as the Crest of Flames, which resides in Teach,” Claude continued after they turned back to face the crowd. “The phantom Crest that has reappeared after more than a thousand years. We're attempting our own miracle in taking down the Empire with such a small force, so it seems like a suitable symbol for us. So... until we welcome the dawn of a new age in Fódlan let's fight to the very end, as one, under the symbol of the Crest of Flames!” He finished his speech by raising his voice and pumping his fist in the air in inspiration. Cheers and battle cries erupted from the crowd as he did so, many of those present throwing an arm into the air to match the blood pumping in their veins.

Byleth said nothing the entire time, rather he was more content to let Claude do the speeches to the crowd while he was more inclined to meet with smaller groups or individuals to motivate them. Having never been the leader of such a large number of warriors, coupled with his more quiet demeanor, he would rather let his more extroverted counterpart take the lead in presentations. Though he wondered how long that would last and contemplated practicing speeches when the opportunity allowed for it.

As he scanned the crowd he couldn't help but feel a bit of apprehension of just how many people he was expected to lead and guide in battle. He was use to pressure of course, the battlefield had a way of hammering that into someone, but to have so many individuals place their faith and hope in him to keep them alive was staggering. It was far easier when it was just his students and a few of the more notable knights to which he could connect with on a more personal level, and to learn of their strengths and weaknesses. With so many other knights to aid them, there wouldn't be enough time to make those connections as before. He would have to rely on his students and what he taught them in order to keep as many alive as possible.

Then there was the issue about his lofty position and what that meant for Fódlan at large. It was not widely known to the public that he was the new archbishop, at least until Rhea returned as he did not want the role. While he didn't have to worry about what it meant for now, word would eventually spread once merchants arrived, and even commoners once they made the surrounding area safe for people again. He had almost no clue on how to lead the Church, especially as someone who was only introduced to the faith six years ago, and even then wasn't particularly religious despite the faith's deity having lived inside his head at one point. He expected that he would be leaning on Seteth quite heavily as those days came closer.

He glanced down at the floor and hummed as the flame wavered. To think that in one year's time his life had become so much more complicated than his days as a mercenary.

“Anything you want to add, Teach?” Claude asked as the roar of applause died down. Byleth scanned the crowd to see that all eyes were trained on him. He disliked having been put on the spot again by Claude, but at this point he knew he needed to get used to it given his lofty position.

“Yes,” Byleth answered, quickly deciding what he wanted to say. “A reminder to everyone. Once the Empire sees this banner, they will know what they're up against. We are a small fighting force compared to the size of the Empire. I will do what I can to protect you all, but I cannot guarantee it. If any of you have any doubts about what we're committing to, now is the time to leave. We will not hold it against you.”

Heads turned turned side to side in the crowd out of curiosity to see if there was going to be anyone that would take the offer. In his own sight, Byleth briefly focused on Dorothea in his peripheral vision to see if she was going to have second thoughts on once more entering into the war. The brunette songstress had her attention on the crowd much like the others, whether it was curiosity like theirs or she was waiting for someone to make the first move he couldn't say.

“We have all committed to this, Professor,” spoke up Flayn who was in the front, hands clasped over her stomach. “We will follow your lead no matter how insurmountable the foe we face.”

“Besides,” Catherine added, “I'd rather go down fighting than be hunted later if Edelgard were to win. Which is what a lot of us in the Church could expect if we were to sit this out.”

“You are the archbishop as well,” Seteth reminded. “It would be unbecoming for all of us if we did not respect that position Rhea bestowed to you. Whatever it is you decide, we shall follow you.”

Byleth nodded. “Understood. Let's all remember what we can expect from the contingent nearby. We will be performing another mock battle later to ensure our plan goes smoothly. Prepare yourselves for it, and meet Claude and I in the town in three hours. That will be all.”

At the word of dismissal, many of those present began filing out to return to their duties, while some others stayed behind to get a closer look at the banner. Notably Ignatz approached Claude with the latter giving his compliments on a job well done, along with Hilda and a few of the knights that had gathered around him. The artist appeared bashful as he received his praise, anxiously rubbing his head while his cheeks turned as pink as Hilda's hair. Byleth found himself lightly smirking at the spectacled artist. He still couldn't shake the feeling of how vain it was, but he had to admit that Ignatz had done a fine job of designing it.

“Not used to big speeches, professor?” he heard Lysithea say to the side, bringing his attention around to her.

“No,” he stated plainly, shaking his head. “It's something I will have to learn soon.”

“Given your position, I'd recommend doing so as soon as possible.” Lysithea crossed her arms and pinched her chin. “Although you didn't have a problem when you were instructing us...”

“I'm used to small groups,” he explained. “Whether it was all of you or when I was still a mercenary. At the time it was just another job to me, albeit an unusual one. It wasn't very different than instructing new mercenaries.”

Lysithea creased her brows slightly. “That would explain why our first days with you were so... harsh. Forcing in our minds to get accustomed to your method of teaching. It was especially telling when we went to Zanado the first time and how we had to get used to taking lives away.”

Byleth nodded. “It would have done none of you any good if I coddled you.”

“And I appreciate that.” Lysithea flashed a smile so fast that Byleth barely had any time to notice it.

“But this kind of leadership I'm unused to. I can instruct a small group, but not inspire a large crowd.”

“Maybe not with words, but your actions have certainly inspired us.”

Byleth raised a questioning eyebrow. “I... haven't done anything.”

Lysithea shook her head and furrowed her brows further. “Nonsense. By being here you have steeled everyone's resolve. Not even Claude holds that kind of charisma, which is strange since you're not exactly that approachable to begin with.” Her eyes flashed when she realized what she said. “Not to be rude, mind you! I mean just in comparison to the average person.”

“I'm not offended,” he assured her, having known the snow-haired girl long enough to understand that if she meant to be rude, she would have made it apparent. “It was more strange to me that all of you weren't intimidated by it. That was the general behavior of others in my past interactions.”

“I'll admit you did give off that aura when I first met you, but I know better than anyone that one shouldn't judge another by appearances alone.” She gave a small smile as she went on. “If anything I was more curious about you than anything else. Emotionless, yet considerate. A stony outer shell that hid a wealth of wisdom and knowledge. Despite what I saw you were not at all what I would have guessed.”

Byleth hummed at her. “Odd of you to say that one shouldn't judge by another's appearance.”

“That's...!” Lysithea flinched, taken aback by the pointed remark before ultimately sighing. “I'll admit you have a point. I'm not proud of my past behavior, but then it does help that I'm no longer in a school environment where I'm not being judged by others regularly.”

“You have improved,” Byleth pointed out with a faint smile of his own. “In more ways than one. It's impressive.”

Lysithea's smile only brightened at the compliment. “Thank you, professor. Now then, I have a seminar to teach in a few minutes, but would you mind walking with me to the classroom? I wanted to go over our strategy again before lunch.”

Byleth nodded. “Of course.” Former student and teacher locked-in step together as they made their way outside, leaving the now only two other remaining people in the room together as Hilda began to voice her own impress on Claude's achievement, but not before the latter pair darted their eyes momentarily toward the former.

As they once again stepped outside to meet the sun's rays Byleth's mind briefly wandered to his own tasks approaching for tomorrow. As it would be a Sunday he was required to attend the weekly service at the cathedral, but thankfully it was more an opportunity to study for his role rather than give any sermon himself. He had been learning under Seteth's tutelage regarding oration and the faith, but he still felt uneasy about preaching as his heart was not in it. He was not one for the religion and never had been even after first arriving at Garreg Mach; to give a sermon for religion he had little concern over felt disingenuous. All the more reason, he concluded, to have Rhea return and deliver them herself.

“So our plan is,” Lysithea recollected, “We fight a defensive battle for a time before we feign a drawback to lure them into the town square. Meanwhile a small team will sneak around the enemy and light the first explosive to set off a chain reaction...”

“Correct,” answered Byleth, nodding.

Lysithea frowned. “Has Claude even considered if the enemy notices us deliberately retreating and arousing suspicion? It was wise to camouflage the barrels to make them appear normal save for the bland marks that only we can understand, but I have my doubts about no one in the enemy army realizing that they are being deceived.”

Byleth cupped his chin. “A fair point. Given the increase in their numbers, if our plan were discovered it would cost more lives on our side.”

“I suppose what I'm asking is, what is our backup plan?”

“According to Claude, me.”

Lysithea flinched once more and swung her head to stare at him with widened eyes. He kept his gaze trained ahead of him, but his expression yielded no hint of humor. “You?! That is completely irresponsible! You may wield the Sword of the Creator, and I mean no disrespect by this, but we can't rely on one single person to change the tide if the plan doesn't work!”

Byleth lowered his hand and looked over at her. “That's what I told him, though not in exact words. He seems to have complete confidence that my skills will be enough to compensate should the plan fail.”

Lysithea crossed her arms across her chest, unconvinced. “Despite who you are professor, you're just one person. You can't be everywhere at once.”

Byleth had to agree with that. It was the whole reason why, after all, he had taken her on as his assistant in that regard. “That's why I recently decided to bring some of the ballista we have to fortify our position.”

Lysithea's eyes flashed at the revelation. “I didn't think we had anymore after the Empire destroyed most of them!”

“Much of them were,” Byleth admitted, “But there are still a few that had only minor damage. Enough that we were able to repair them quickly.”

Lysithea hummed in contemplation. Though she did wish that he had told her beforehand, at least he was already on top of things to compensate for Claude's lack of redundancy. “Those will certainly help us... and with enough force behind the shots we can at least detonate the explosives individually and from a safe distance...”

“That will allow for the plan to continue to go forward, though the damage to the enemy may not be as great.”

Lysithea nodded. “And we have to consider that they take time to arm, and require the user to be precise in their aim.” The more she thought on it, the more she saw the flaws in the plan. The barrels at the starting location were easier to set off by virtue of being done so from a single person. Using ballista would be far more trickier due to the range, wind speed, skill of the user, and other factors. Imperfect alternative that it was, it was at least something to fall back on should the small squad meant to initiate the original plan fail. The same squad she herself would be leading once the time came.

It had been Byleth's recommendation that she be the one to lead that squad. Not only would it be an opportunity to put what they had deliberated together to the test, but it was just as important, if not moreso, as Byleth's role of leading the main force in their defense. Byleth had no doubts that she would do well in her role, while handling a much larger fighting force was better delegated to someone who had more experience in the matter. Not only that, but as they both knew what was at stake should they lose they couldn't afford to have an untested tactician giving orders if the situation became too dire. Still, deep down she wanted to be the one to lead the defense to prove herself, but as the expert on the matter she deferred to Byleth's sound judgment.

In short time they had made it to the Golden Deer's former classroom, now repurposed for seminar sessions along with the other two House classrooms. With having to lead to Church and co-leading the resistance Byleth no longer had any time to resume teaching. However that did not mean that others were to stop learning, so instead he set it up so that his former students and some of the senior knights would be the ones to instruct others in fields that those who signed up for them were lacking in, or felt the need to improve in. It provided a better opportunity for everyone to learn from each other so that they might be introduced to new ideas no one had thought of, including the instructor on occasion.

As they made it to the door, the two of them peeked through the windows to see Dorothea, Marianne, and a few of the clergy inside. The former students seemed to be engaged in conversation, and from the looks of it both seemed to be enjoying it as everyone awaited Lysithea's arrival.

“I mustn't keep them waiting any longer,” she remarked as she retreated away from the window. “Thank you for walking with me, professor.”

“Anytime,” said Byleth. “Today will be our first test of the backup plan. Be ready.”

“I'll try to be,” Lysithea frowned. She wanted to remark that he had not given enough time to prepare for the new information of their artillery, but then she surmised that to be ready for anything on such short notice was part of a tactician's job. “We should go over positioning and the proper personnel to use them during lunch.”

“Agreed,” he nodded before giving her a light smile. “Enjoy your seminar.”

“I will,” she replied, returning the smile before going inside. He could hear the muffled greeting from Lysithea to her class as he turned to walk away. From what he had learned from her she did like the prospect of teaching others as well, glad to be of help to them. However if he had to make any form of criticism for her is that she needed to be more patient with those attending. He had seen it before back when she was instructing Cyril at the Academy on how to read and write, the boy proving to be rather slow on learning the process and she had sounded irritated with his lack of progress on one occasion that he overheard. Nowadays he had not heard any complaints either directly or in passing, so it was his hope that she was aware of the fault and made efforts to correct it.

Alone once more, Byleth decided he would head to the Goddess Tower to clear his head. The walk with Lysithea was a nice, if brief, distraction from his inner woes, but now they began to return. In particular the concern he had about who he could expect to fight in the upcoming battles. Ever since Dorothea arrived and explained to him what occurred to the Black Eagles in his absence, he dreaded the possibility that he would have to face them at some point as enemies. It didn't feel right raising his blade against those he educated, and he never had to fight against familiar faces before. He wanted to avoid that if at all possible, but judging from what Dorothea had said it was a matter of when, not if.

He had every intention to make good on his promise to Dorothea about attempting to bring them over to his side, yet a troubling question remained to him. Would they listen? It was possible given what the songstress told him, but the doubt still lingered that they would accept his offer to side with the resistance. What if they were to lose? The consequences for their second act of treason would likely result in death, or worse, assuming they didn't die on the battlefield.

If they did not listen to him at first, he knew it was inevitable that he had to fight them. That much he expected and was prepared for. What he grappled with was potentially having to kill them should they refuse to accept his offer to side with the resistance. He supposed it was possible to subdue and capture them, take them prisoner. At least then it would be possible for him to sit down and talk with them without the energy of a battle surrounding them. However it was also possible that they decided to side with Edelgard and fight for what she believed in, and like apparently many of the soldiers in the Imperial army, die for that belief.

As he crossed the bridge toward the cathedral, his brows furrowed at his thoughts turning toward Edelgard. If he had a difficult time deciding whether or not he could kill the other Black Eagles, it was even more difficult to do so with the emperor. She had been one of the first people he had befriended, and the person he would have died defending had Sothis not intervened. She had been one of the most successful students he had the privilege of teaching when he happened to have been scheduled to do so. She may have been the house leader of the Black Eagles, but along with Claude and Dimitri she had been one of his more closer friends and he cherished that friendship.

But now he was conflicted with what he had to do. From what he had learned of her ambitions directly from her, she wanted to remove the Crest system and replace it with one that didn't decide a person's future by simply being born lucky. In addition he learned from the other students from the various Houses of how much their lives have been governed by Crests, for good or ill, and how the other nobles across Fódlan were so obsessed with Crests that they were willing to disown their flesh and blood and treat them as nothing more than commoners, all because of how much they wanted to cling to their power.

And he sympathized with what the students were going through, found himself agreeing that things needed to change. The people should be allowed to succeed and become prosperous and not be tied down to a lower class because a Crest did not manifest itself in their blood. A Crest or lack thereof shouldn't govern a person's life, and Edelgard sought to change all that. Her dreams for Fódlan were noble ones, and had he had a closer relation to her than Claude, perhaps having chosen the Black Eagles where they could know each other more, he might have even sided with her and join her cause.

Yet this... wasn't what he wanted. He did not want to see Fódlan engulfed in a war that risked having his students and friends be killed. No matter how much he sympathized with Edelgard's cause, he could not stand idly by while she threatened their lives for her ambitions. While he agreed with what she had said before, he was not in favor of her paving her path with bodies, instead wanting to find a more peaceful solution to bring about the necessary change the country so desperately needed.

He also had not forgotten about who she was associating with, that shadowy group of people that kidnapped Flayn, decimated Remire village, and were responsible for Jeralt's murder. Knowing what they had done, it was for the first time that he had ever felt hatred in his chest, the flame burning intensely whenever he thought of them. He wondered how and why Edelgard could ever align with them, and whether she had done so willingly, gladly. He didn't want to believe that. He knew her to be better than that, but then there was much about her that, as he discovered, he knew little of.

He looked up forlornly at the sky. Just who was Edelgard really? Was the person he spoke with really her, or was that also just another farce to ward away suspicion? Every thing that occurred in the Holy Tomb that day challenged how he saw her. What was once assurance turned into confusion and conflict. Yet one fact remained that he did know for sure: Edelgard was someone that would not back down from achieving her goals. She was someone who was determined to see her dreams come to fruition, and quite possibly even die for them as well.

He was just unsure if he was willing to be the one to have her do so.

He arrived at the top of the Goddess Tower once more, staring out into the horizon as the morning sun illuminated the interior as it made its way to its peak. He sometimes came here for fresh air, so cut off from the rest of the monastery that hardly anyone could disturb him, and being the archbishop it wasn't as though anyone could stop him from climbing the tower. Before its access was restricted, only a handful of the Church staff were allowed here, and he became one of them after Rhea granted him permission. It was a pleasant escape from the hectic life he led as a professor.

However, now he found himself coming here more often than ever with how quickly his life had changed in the year since he had stepped through the monastery's gates. Going from a professor instructing students to prepare them for their futures (he could at least say he had succeeded there, just not in the way he expected nor wanted), to becoming the archbishop of a fractured Church of Seiros and the co-leader of a resistance formed to combat the Empire was overwhelming. And through all that he discovered what stress was, how the pressures of the world were bearing down on him, and how everyone's hopes were placed on him.

So it was that in these moments of respite he simply buried that stress away and simply basked in the isolation that the Goddess Tower brought. As he stepped out onto the balcony he closed his eyes and let the cold wind tickle his face while taking deep breaths, inhaling through his nose and exhaling through his mouth. He emptied his mind of errant thoughts until the only thing he could hear was the trees rustling to the breeze, and think of the more happier times he had when he was a professor. The world felt so far away when he was here.

But it did not last as he soon heard the sounds of approaching footsteps coming up the stairs. Judging from those sounds he could guess as to who it was that came to find him.

“Hey friend,” Claude greeted him as he came to a stop a little ways behind him. Byleth opened his eyes, but did not turn to face him. As quickly as his escape came, reality took the form of the Alliance leader to remind him about the work he needed to do. “I thought I might find you here.”

“I only arrived a minute ago,” stated Byleth, finally deciding to turn around upon realizing that Claude was searching for him.

Claude smirked as he rest his hands behind his head. “Heh. Good timing on my part then.” Byleth disagreed, but thought better than to bring that up. Claude approached and stood next to him, and both leaders took a moment to enjoy the tranquility of the moment as they both looked out in the distance. “Serene, isn't it? This view is a lot more amazing when I'm not having to sneak around guards to see it.”

“It's peaceful. I come here to relax.”

Claude raised a brow while still holding his smirk. “I thought fishing was your way of relaxing?”

Byleth glanced over at the man. “There are many ways to relax, Claude.”

“True, and with how much you're always pushing yourself every day I sometimes wonder if you've ever truly relaxed, or if you're always wondering about what you need to do after.”

Byleth shifted his gaze to the floor. “...I was thinking about how much more I have to do given my new position.”

Claude nodded. “It is quite a leap, going from a professor to the archbishop of the Church, but given your power and the fact that you wield the Sword of the Creator, it does make sense in its own way.” Claude refocused his attention at the sky, frowning as he did so. “And I'd rather be working alongside you in this war rather than Rhea if I'm being honest. I think half the time I'd be trying to coax her into revealing her secrets rather than concentrating on what needed to be done to end this war.”

Byleth certainly understood that. While he shared Claude's thirst for answers regarding the truth of the Heroes' Relics and Crest Stones, he was more interested about his own origins. Ever since learning about the circumstances shrouding his birth from Jeralt's diary, the question had been on his mind about what Rhea did to him that allowed him to survive being a stillborn. The fact that he had no heartbeat yet maintained a pulse was a connection he drew from that survival, and Rhea was at the center of it. What did she do to cause such a phenomenon? Whatever it was was enough of a point that it drove Jeralt to steal him away and fake his death to ensure Rhea was never a part of his life.

Another connection he drew was that she must have inserted something in place of his heart. There was a scar running down between his pectoral muscles that even after all these years maintained its pinkish appearance when any other scar that early in his life would have faded away. He had asked Jeralt about it before, but he always answered with a furrowed brow and replied with a simple “I don't know, kid.” At first Byleth thought his father was hiding something, but over the years he began to accept that Jeralt did not, in fact, know anything about it, and it only reminded him that Rhea had done something to his son. Something Byleth planned on asking the former archbishop once she was found.

“Let's do our best to bring about its end,” answered Byleth with determination.

Claude turned to face him, placing a hand on his hip. “Just leave it to me, Teach. After this war is over, I plan to see all of my dreams come to fruition, and yours as well.”

Now it was Byleth's turn to face his friend. This was only the second time Claude had ever mentioned any sort of dreams he had, and the professor was curious about just what the Alliance leader had in mind. “What are your dreams, Claude?”

Claude's smirked turned into a smile, one Byleth noticed was one of the rare instances of being genuine. “Well, for example... to bust open Fódlan's Throat. You remember it right Teach?”

“Yes. We helped Hilda defend it from an Almyran attack party during the school year.”

“Exactly! Though to be more specific we defended the massive fortress there, Fódlan's Locket. It's responsible for protecting the eastern border of the Alliance. I like to think of it as a lid on bottle.” Claude angled his head back toward the horizon with a sullen look. “The people of Fódlan only know a small part of the world. Their prejudices are born because they don't know what lies beyond their borders.”

Byleth pinched his chin. What he said was true, and from what he researched that sort of isolation was brought about by the tenets of the Church, declaring to keep contact with the outside world at the most to a minimum.

“The attacks from Almyra would have also colored their views,” he added.

“And the opposite is true too,” Claude continued. “Those outside of Fódlan don't know about this place. Ignorance breeds discrimination. Whether you look inside the bottle or outside of it... if you really look, all you'll find are people who you can get along with, if you only try. That's why I wanna bust open that lid, which is keeping us locked inside. Or destroy the bottle entirely.”

Byleth took a moment to absorb what Claude told him. It was quite the ambition he had and, if he were going off what was taught by the Church, heresy. When he thought back over what he learned about Fódlan's history, the only instances of interaction with the outside world were always with conflict. Almyra threatened the eastern border on a constant basis, Sreng to the north of the Kingdom was, according to Sylvain, hostile to Fódlan as well, there was once a war held between Brigid and Dagda against Fódlan, and finally there was the Tragedy of Duscur. It made sense that the people of Fódlan would have a negative view of the outside world due to their only interactions with it being bloodshed. A thousand or so years of living under fear of being invaded by outside forces would be incredibly hard to shake.

Yet the idea intrigued him. He remembered how most of the students got along relatively well with each other during the school year, and he wanted to see that again. It saddened him that what were once fellow students all interacting and cooperating were now being forced to fight and kill each other for the sake of something they may never see. If it were possible to once again bring them all together and enjoy peace... that was something he could fight for too. And Claude wanted to take that sort of camaraderie and spread it out beyond Fódlan's borders.

“Are you going to tell our allies about this?” he asked. Despite his interest he was well aware of how lofty, and controversial, Claude's dreams were. It may also be the case that they might not be as enthused about opening borders as his friend was.

“I'll find the right time to bring it up,” Claude answered, shrugging as he did. “Even if I talked about it now, it doesn't seem realistic with where we're at right now, does it? First we need to defeat the Empire and restore peace to Fódlan.”

“True...” Byleth flashed a faint smirk as he averted his gaze and hummed. “So this was what you were talking about before that one day in the library...”

Claude tilted his head. “Hmm? You're gonna have to be more specific, Teach. We talked about a lot of things in the library.”

“About how your dream was a selfless one,” he clarified.

“Ah, right. That was shortly after we defeated Miklan and Edelgard barraged me with questions while answering none of my own, though I suppose now we're even on that matter.” Claude returned his attention toward the sky, staring off forlornly as his smile faded. “It is the very same dream I mentioned, one that I've held close to. It's something I've been planning on for some years now, but I needed power in order to bring it to life. I have that now, yet what I still needed was someone who could help me bring that about. I think I found that someone in you, friend, especially after seeing for myself the kind of person you are.”

Byleth raised a brow. “What do you mean?”

For the first time, Byleth noted that Claude looked mildly hurt. “Come on, Teach. Despite the Officers Academy's reputation, everyone wasn't always friendly with each other, especially to those who others knew weren't from Fódlan...”

At that point it didn't take long for Byleth to understand what he meant. While he had not heard it all the time, there were occasions where he overheard varying students gossiping about some of the foreigners that were there, sometimes to the point where they were saying hurtful things about them. Even a few members of the clergy voiced their distaste and distrust for people like Cyril, Petra, Dedue, Shamir, and even Claude despite his position. It was annoying at first, but it wasn't language he hadn't heard before, with a couple of the mercenaries from Jeralt's company even engaging in such talk years ago.

As he grew closer to them however, he felt the flame burn at his sides and he discovered that he was finding himself bothered when people gossiped about the five. It became more apparent after Flayn was kidnapped and the rumors spread that any one of those five could have been behind it, even going so far as to accuse them directly, save for Shamir and Claude. Even without being confronted the latter two were still the targets of suspicion until one day he had enough of overhearing it during a shared meal with his House leader. He himself confronted those students and swiftly put an end to it. Whether that was true or not he couldn't tell, but the point was to send a message that that kind of talk would not be tolerated on his watch.

“You're referring to the gossip,” Byleth replied, voicing his thoughts. Even thinking back on it was enough to have the flame tingle his sides in an unpleasant way again.

Claude frowned at remembering those times. It wasn't anything he hadn't heard before, but the fact that he WAS used to it was, to him, a cause for alarm, and all the more reason why he had this dream in mind to begin with. He had already faced much in the way of discrimination throughout his years, and while being the heir to House Riegan had quieted some of those voices down, they were never silent.

He turned that frown upside-down, but Byleth noted how it was more sad than anything else. “It ties in to what I said, Teach. Ignorance breeds discrimination. Rather than get to know others who look different than them, they would rather stick with what they were told all their lives. I've told you this before, but I had to deal with a lot of that growing up. All I want to see in the world is just people getting along and enjoying life without prejudice dominating their view of others.”

Claude's smile warmed to him. “And that's who I was searching for to help me. Someone that didn't care about any of that, and saw a person as a person, and not as something to be feared or hated because they don't look or talk like them. That meal we had together sealed it for me.”

Byleth shook his head. “I was tired of hearing them talk like that about my student.” Claude's smile turned more coy at the seeming dismissal of it.

“Well it meant a lot to me,” his voice was warm and grateful, able to read his professor much better than he did before and wasn't phased by his tone. “It was the first time someone stood up for me when that happened. You did the same thing for Petra, Cyril, and the others during that time. I don't think I ever thanked you for that, so I'll do it now. Thanks for that, my friend.”

Byleth turned to face Claude and graced him with one his own warm smiles. “You're welcome.”

“Now all that's left to do is end this war so I can get this dream back on track. Though honestly, Edelgard did me a favor by starting it in the first place.”

Whatever warm feeling Byleth felt in his chest dissipated at the callous admission from the Alliance leader. “What?”

Sensing Byleth's unease, held up his hands defensively. “Don't get me wrong. It's not as if I wanted a war to begin with, but I have to admit it is a good way to get a fast start on accomplishing my dream. Think about it: the Church is ultimately responsible for wanting to keep relations outside of Fódlan from ever happening, yeah? And Rhea is at the center of it all. With her gone that would allow for a new way of thinking to take root from whoever takes her place. Inevitably that would pass on to you.”

Byleth raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “Do you hope she's dead?”

Claude ran a hand through his hair, unsure about how to go about answering. On the one hand having her alive would allow him to get answers to the biggest questions on his mind regarding Fódlan's history. Her being dead would mean those answers die with her. Yet with her gone that would mean Fódlan would be allowed to think differently when Teach replaced her. It was a complicated predicament, and though he was distrusting of Rhea he didn't wish death upon her.

“All I know is that I still have a lot of questions I need to ask her,” he replied, choosing his answer carefully. “About the true history of the Crest Stones and Heroes' Relics... and the truth behind the legend of Seiros and Nemesis. She has secrets. Too many of them for my comfort. Considering the state of the world... it's suspicious. And you must be curious about what was done to you and what her plans were for you, right? None of our doubts will ever be cleared unless we hear these answers from Rhea herself. In that sense, I absolutely hope she's still alive.”

Byleth nodded, though he was still unsatisfied with how Claude avoided his rationale about the war. “We still know little of what she's hiding. I hope she answers our questions when we find her.”

“And when we do find her,” he continued, “I sincerely hope she won't return to her role. The majority of people in Fódlan believe in the Seiros faith that she preaches. That's why they accept the noble system as if it were the only option, and refuse to associate with those who believe in anything else. That closed-minded philosophy is the reason why Fódlan's Throat is locked tight, but if you remove the archbishop who strictly advocates that doctrine, that world view is no longer absolute. There's room for free thought. And as I said before, the leadership of the Church would undoubtedly fall to you, and you would hold the power to change the shape of the faith. Of the world. Then, for the first time, people would truly be free to think for themselves. To decide what's right, and what's wrong. ”

Byleth couldn't restrain his eyes widening. The power to change the shape of the world? That was an exaggeration, even from Claude. He barely knew how to lead the Church in Rhea's absence while its numbers were diminished. To be in charge of all of Fódlan was unthinkable, and he had absolutely no intention of letting that happen. That role was better suited for someone like the man in front of him who was leagues better at politics than he ever would be.

“Shouldn't you be the one to decide that?” Byleth questioned, crossing his arms over his chest. “Assuming we win, I'm not fit for this role afterward. I'm not a man of the faith.”

“Neither am I,” Claude chuckled awkwardly as he rubbed the back of his head. “But you're more qualified to be the head of the Church than me. After all, you have the goddess's power in you. Whether you like it or not people are going to take that as a sign that you were chosen for the role.”

Byleth was forced to admit that Claude had a point. “I still don't see why we needed a war for that.”

Claude shrugged his shoulders while letting out a defeated sigh. “In all the time I spent at the Officers Academy, I never got the impression that Rhea would ever step down from being archbishop. Edelgard must have felt the same way, and that's the reason why she started it. It would be the easiest way to force Rhea out of power, to force change. And honestly, I believe Edelgard is probably hoping to achieve something very similar to my own dream.” His brows knitted at the thought of it though. “But her methods require too much bloodshed. That's not something the world can get behind. There are other ways to remove Rhea from her position.”

Once more Byleth raised an eyebrow, this time more out of curiosity. “What would you have done?”

“Well, first I-” Before he could begin voicing his methodology, they were interrupted by the sounds of feet racing up the staircase. They both turned to see Leonie reaching the top with an alarmed look on her face.

“Professor! Claude!” she said, her body tense and pumping adrenaline through her veins. “The Empire's on their way here!”

“Guess we'll have to cut this conversation short,” Claude stated before turning his attention to the new arrival, “Are you sure about this Leonie?”

“Yeah! One of the scouts reported back that they were on the move! We don't have much time to prepare!”

Byleth cursed their luck. He wanted to have everyone practice their secondary plan, but now it looked as though that they would have to go on without it. He could also only hope that everyone had enough to eat before now. Lunch was still a ways off, and wars cannot be won with empty stomachs.

“We knew they were coming,” Byleth remarked, “But the timing could be better.”

“Hey, not to worry,” Claude reassured confidently, winking and smirking at him. “We got you to guide us, and the Sword of the Creator to back us up in case things go south. No one outside of the monastery has any reason to believe you're still alive. We can use that to our advantage.”

“Only once, Claude,” Byleth cautioned. “Edelgard we'll know I'm here after this battle.”

“Then we better make sure we don't let a single soldier escape, eh?”

Byleth nodded. “Let's end them quickly.”

Leonie clenched her first in anticipation. “You got it, professor! I'll show you the results of all my training!” With that, Leonie headed back downstairs with Claude not too far behind her, leaving Byleth one last moment to collect himself. It truly was poorly timed, but at least they knew what they were up against, and Claude did have a point about their element of surprise. It would have to be enough to carry the day.

With a deep breath, he proceeded to follow his former students downstairs, to the war that he never asked for, and one that may end in the deaths of those he cared about, but he knew that there was no going back now. This was his path to follow, one that would meet Edelgard's head-on, and he remained uncertain and worried if it would mean her death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay folks. Lost a bit of motivation for a time, but I managed to get it back. Which was good because I was already four pages into this before I started Fermented Flower with kenji1104.
> 
> Not really sure if I'm going to do the battle that takes place here. It's not entirely important to the story, and I would rather not bore people with lengthy battle scenes when I don't think I'm good at them, if the reunion battle was anything to go by. That doesn't I won't in the future mind you, it's just that with no BL or BE students taking part, it doesn't seem quite necessary to do. We shall see I guess.
> 
> Anywho, hoped you enjoyed reading this latest addition, and look forward to the next chapter, whatever that may be!
> 
> P.S.: There's now a Bysithea server! Come join me, kenji1104, Hazeel, and other lovers of the Bysithea ship! Simply follow the link and come be apart of this! We'd love to have you!  
https://discord.gg/5jRBe9v


	10. Scars of War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The resistance is successful in defending Garreg Mach Monastery, and now that they no longer need to worry about any further attacks from the Empire, can begin planning their next move. However, there is always an aftermath to battle, and no one ever leaves one unscathed as mental wounds from past battles emerge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 22nd Day of the Guardian Moon, Imperial Year 1186

“Careful with the body there, Benedict,” a knight said to her companion as she gently took a hold of the wrists of an Empire soldier's charred remains. Much of the skin was blackened from the inferno that engulfed the now cindered corpse that was the monastery's town, and even parts of the armor that the soldier wore had melted onto the seared flesh. So burned the body was that neither knight could tell if it was a man or woman anymore. And the stench of burned flesh was unbearable as both flexed their nostrils in disgust.

“Goddess, that was brutal,” replied Benedict, as mellow as he could muster to suppress the bile he could taste in his throat. This was the part of the job he saw coming, everyone did, but upon the archbishop's orders the town was to be cleared of the fallen so that it could be rebuilt and allow for merchants and commoners alike to return without having to see the grisly scene before them.

The moon was full this night as it hung high above them, giving them the preciously needed light to perform their morbid task. Despite how late it was they were to carry on with their task due to the illumination, and the need to clear the town of the results of their battle hours ago. No one liked the idea of waking up in the morning to have a cloud of decay hanging over them and have everyone retching for the entire day.

“No doubt about that,” the first one said as her companion delicately took a hold of the body's ankles. While he did she stole a quick glance to survey the remains of the town, or at least what was left of it, as best she could given the moonlight. It was a stark reminder about the sight she saw. It was almost as though they were in the flames of eternity as the inferno roared to life from general Lysithea's ignition of the explosives they purposefully laid throughout the town. A loud banging sound, like the roar of a wyvern, at first, then another and another until all she could hear for a while was a ringing in her ears. Then the entire town became engulfed in flames, swallowing anyone who was unfortunate enough to get caught in them.

Now all that was left was the town's skeleton, blackened buildings dotting the town square and its surroundings, littered with burnt bodies of every foe that entered Garreg Mach's now former town, and an unfortunate few of their own.

“I know we did what we had to...” Benedict lamented as they began slowly making their way to the cart that would take the body and many others to where they were to be buried, “But to see everything afterward...”

“You mean the soldiers? Or the town?”

“Both.”

“It's a grisly sight to be sure.” She glanced down at the corpse and immediately regretted it, instead focusing on where she was going to avoid the unpleasant sight.

“I know we're supposed to be fighting the Empire, but when I see their soldiers like this I wonder if the Goddess approves of our methods?”

“They raised their swords against her,” she argued as they saw the cart coming into view. “What happens to them is nothing compared to what she will do to them afterward.” Indignant as she was toward the Empire, it didn't make seeing them like this any easier. They were still human after all, even if they did defy the Goddess with their actions.

Sensing the shift in tone from his companion, Benedict decided to shift topics. “Seeing the town like this is pretty disheartening too.” He nodded toward one of the demolished walls, only a fraction of the size it used to be, and charred black in most of what remained. “That used to be a sweet shop over there. I used to take my family there after sermons before my shift began. My son loved that place...”

“Where is your family now?” she asked worriedly. Most of the families of the knights had lived either in the town or else they were scattered throughout Fódlan living in villages.

“After the war began, we had to flee our home in the Empire... our lives were at risk because of me. Fortunately it was early on so we were able to make it safely to the Eastern Church before they could find us.”

Relief came over her as she heard the news, bringing a smile to her face even though he couldn't see it behind her helmet. “I'm glad to hear they're okay.”

“What about you Selene? How is your family doing?”

As quickly as the relief came, so too did the feeling of anguish overtake her as the question was asked and her lip quivered at the painful memories. “...My sons... they're... t-they were killed after... Arianrhod was seized... I never even got to say goodbye...”

“Selene, I...” he stammered ashamedly, not intending to draw such poor memories from his inquiry. “I'm sorry. I had no idea.”

Selene took a deep breath to collect herself and fight back any tears. It was useless to do so now. “It's okay Benedict. You didn't know. And it's why I'm glad to finally be pushing back against the Empire. They took my babies away, and they insulted the one that helped me get through that time. I want them to answer for all of that.”

As they closed in on the cart, they could see another pair of knights a short distance away as they loaded the bodies onto the macabre pile already there. Dorothea was also observing them from a little further back, hands resting in front of her waist, and though she looked mournfully at them, Selene could only glare at the brunette as she noticed her.

“Why is she even here if she isn't helping?” she whispered harshly to Benedict as she turned and prepared to lift the body. “Probably can't be bothered to touch dead bodies. Might dirty that fancy dress of hers.”

“Selene...” he whispered back, trying to keep her level. They had been told by the archbishop to treat her like they would the Golden Deer, and to hear this coming from his friend was understandable given her dislike of the Empire, but it was unnecessary.

“Or maybe she's having second thoughts about killing her own? She's already a traitor after all. Wouldn't surprise me if she decided to attack us here and now.”

“Selene!” He managed to keep quiet while simultaneously raising his voice to get her to stop. “Enough! She's not with them anymore! And after today, I doubt the emperor would forgive her for this.”

Selene scoffed at the notion, but otherwise did not contest it as they hoisted the body onto the pile. She still heavily disagreed with letting an Imperial citizen join their ranks, but she wasn't about to try and argue that to the archbishop. He was already aware of the danger it might bring, but gave her the benefit of the doubt regardless. All she could do was fall in line and keep her thoughts to herself and her training camp companion.

“Let's go find the next one,” said Benedict, leading the pair away as the now full cart began to ride off for the bodies to be given their last rites. Though she was a Knight of Seiros and believed that everyone should be given them, she personally felt it was more than they deserved in the moment. Her sons were never given as such; why should they?

Despite not hearing those words, Dorothea saw the action of Selene turning her head to her intently before looking away. She wondered just what the knight thought of her in that moment. She wasn't naive to the fact that there were still those among the knights that didn't take too kindly to her being here. She was a citizen of the Empire, and the latter was at war with the Church. It was only natural some of the knights might still despise her even though she had nowhere else to go at this point. And after what she did today the Empire would no longer welcome her. She could only hope she would eventually be accepted by the knights as the war went on.

She looked out at the ruins of the town, sorrow creeping into her heart as she did, recounting the battle that took place. She had been assigned to the defensive force to aid in the plan to lure the Empire's soldiers to their awaiting doom. Though she would have been okay with the professor assigning her to Lysithea's team, she knew what the real reason behind it was. She didn't blame him for being cautious, and she figured it was because he didn't want to risk her jeopardizing the plan they formulated by suddenly turning traitor to them and either warning the enemy or by outright attacking Lysithea's team.

The defense played out well enough. The professor lamented that they couldn't move their artillery into place in time, but the practice battles they partook in before the attack helped immensely in preparing them. The bolstered forces they faced contained primarily ground troops that were dealt with relative ease, but it was their pegasus knights that had been called in that had proved to be problematic. With Claude being the only one capable of flying, they had to rely heavily on the handful of archers they had in order to take them out, and with pegasuses having a natural resistance to magic, she and the other mages were having a tough time with them too.

While the archers were having to try and pick them off, the ground forces penetrated easily into the town and began their clash with their defense. This was where the reputation of the Knights of Seiros began to shine as they held their own against superior numbers, and with the aid of those personally trained by Professor Byleth to engage alongside them, possessing five Heroes' Relics with them, and with the professor to guide them in battle, the Empire had a difficult time trying to push forward... of their own accord. Instead they kept to the plan and gradually gave the appearance of being pushed back in order to lure them to the center of town where their trap lay.

All the while it pained her once more to be killing others even though they were all trying to kill her at the same time. So far different it was to fighting in a war rather than the monthly missions they were assigned back when they were just students. With bandits and thieves she could take comfort in the fact that she was helping innocent people by ridding them of those that would do them harm sooner or later. Yet with soldiers she knew that they had families waiting for them back home that loved and worried for them while they were gone. It was the same notion she knew of when she was fighting for the Empire, and that had not changed since joining the resistance.

Yet rejoining the war opened up those wounds again, clawing at her like a giant wolf every time she took another life away. The yell of shock as her spells pierced her enemies, the sickening sound of bodies hitting the pavement, the cries of vengeance from their comrades only to end up facing the same fate as the last one she felled. Though she disliked it, she was disturbed that it didn't bother her nearly as much as it should have. She remembered seeing so much worse before, things that she wished she could purge from her mind and pretend as though they never happened, but those sharp memories had a habit of returning to her in her nightmares.

And return they did after what happened earlier. Everything was going well for them as their planned showed signs it was working. They steadily made it appear as though they were losing ground, and though they did lose some knights in the process, the Empire showed no sign of backing down, completely oblivious to the trap they were literally walking into. Once Lysithea gave the word that she was in position, the resistance swiftly retreated, all while Claude taunted the enemy commander, goading him to give chase. When they did, the first explosion gave the army pause, then soon another, and another before it became a never-ending series until the last and loudest one in the center of town. And that was when the nightmares came crawling back into the daylight.

Once the ringing in hears began dying down, the only thing that could be heard above the roar of the flames were the agonizing screams of the Imperial soldiers. Some had been blown apart from being too close to the explosion, others were maimed and dismembered, and many more were being burned alive. She witnessed this terrifying scene the whole time in disbelief and horror as she watched them stumble around either screaming in terror or begging for help. The pegasus knights could not control their steeds and they plummeted to the ground, the creatures unable to breathe or see from the sudden plume of smoke that rose from the flames.

It brought forth those terrible memories of her earlier days in the war, things that no one person should ever have to see. What made those memories so much worse was that Edelgard had been there to do the deeds, not showing an ounce of regret of what she had done. It was during those times that she truly believed that the Edelgard she knew at the Academy was dead, for who could do such heinous acts to others, even if they were her enemies?

As Dorothea stood there watching the hellish sight in front of her, she had looked to the others to see if they at least still had their humanity intact. Though for the knights she couldn't tell if they did as their helmets blocked their faces, but from the Golden Deer she could see a difference. They all wore different expressions according to who they were, but she could tell that they weren't indifferent to the suffering they brought on. Ignatz, Marianne, Leonie, Hilda, Flayn, even Lorenz all showed some measure of remorse of what had happened. She was relieved that at least they didn't look upon their enemies with enough contempt to disregard what they caused.

As for the professor, she can't say she was surprised to see him staring at their handiwork with that famous stone-faced look of his. If it were anyone else, she would say that it was the exact same expression of indifference to what was happening before his eyes as Edelgard's, but with him she couldn't say for sure. He did have the reputation of being the Ashen Demon, one who cut down his foes without a hint of emotion, yet after her time around him during school she could see that he was capable of them, and even starting to express himself more than his reputation suggested. Was he truly indifferent, was it his way of coping, or did he just accept the consequences and didn't let it phase him? She could not honestly say.

Now she was having to see the aftermath of it all, the knights carrying charred, decrepit bodies of the fallen soldiers and tossing them onto a cart, some of them with limbs missing or barely hanging on by a few tendons, the rest torn away from fire. Despite how casually the knights appeared to be taking their task, it was in this moment that she was glad that it was the professor who was in charge of them and not Rhea. Despite being enemies to the Church, he had ordered the clerics to give the soldiers funeral rites and to be buried with dignity rather than tossed into a mass grave. She had her misgivings about Rhea, especially after Edelgard played her hand and disrespected what the former archbishop held dear, so she could not trust that Rhea would give the soldiers the same respect that the professor was showing.

“You don't have to be here if it troubles you,” she heard the man in question say behind her, causing her to lightly gasp at the sudden appearance bringing her back to the present.

“Professor!” she exclaimed, turning swiftly to face him. He was out of his Enlightened One attire again and back into his old outfit, a choice he decided to make for future use. As ever his expression was unreadable, betraying no hint of what he was thinking or feeling. “You shouldn't sneak up on people like that.”

“Sorry.”

“How did you know this was bothering me?”

“Your head was tilted, your shoulders were sagging, and you had your arms around you in a way that looked as though you were comforting yourself.”

“Nothing gets by you, does it?” she mused with a sad smirk before letting out a sigh and looking back toward the town solemnly. “No I... I think I need to be here. To remind myself about the horrors of war and steel myself for what might happen as it goes on... and mourn for those who killed today.”

Byleth tilted his head in concern. “Are you okay?”

Dorothea thought about it for a moment, wondering if she should tell him something that she wished she had never seen and hoped to keep buried. She closed her eyes in contemplation, shuddering slightly as the mere thought of it frightened her. “...No. I don't think I am. What happened here... what we did... burning so many soldiers alive like that, it's just... did we really we have to go through with it?”

“It was the most effective way for us to win,” he stated. “And winning is the priority.”

Dorothea furrowed her brows and turned sharply. “Even if it means losing your humanity in the process?! I saw you when the town was on fire professor! You stood there like a statue as people ran around screaming and flailing while they were being burned alive! Is that winning, or just torture?!”

Byleth was taken aback by the sudden outburst as his eyes widened slightly. “I'm not proud of what we had to do, but it was the best way to minimize casualties on our side. And we can't afford to handicap ourselves when we risk being annihilated.” Byleth's brows then knitted with remorse. “I don't want them to suffer. I take no pleasure in it, but I need to appear level for everyone's sake.”

“So...” she began hesitantly, “What I saw then... it wasn't indifference... it was just you staying strong for everyone who was affected.”

When Byleth nodded, her body heated up with guilt coming over her. She had taken out her personal feelings of past events on someone who didn't deserve it and regretted saying what she did immediately after. To hear how he felt on the matter showed that he wasn't callous about causing the suffering they had made, leaving her feeling even worse for having raised her voice to him.

“I'm sorry for my outburst, professor. It's just that after seeing others suffer during this war... it's a sensitive issue for me.” She again wrapped her arms around her as she shivered, dark thoughts making their way back to the forefront of her mind. “Seeing what I saw before... and now this, it... it reminded me about that time. I don't know if I'll ever stop hearing the screams of those soldiers from the fire... or when...”

She trailed off as her shivering intensified, causing Byleth to walk over and gently placed his hands on her shoulders. Dorothea tilted her head up to meet his eyes, and while they seemed to be stoic, she could see the comforting warmth from them that matched his hands. It was more than Edelgard ever offered, and it reminded her about the sort of caring person that was in front of her, always there to support her and the other students no matter what it may be.

“Thank you,” she whispered, and both of them lowered their arms to their sides. “I needed that. And again, I'm sorry for taking my anger out on you. It's just that seeing that hellish sight reminded me of something I wanted to forget from years ago.”

“You never told me what happened that crossed a line for you,” Byleth pointed out. When Dorothea didn't immediately answer, but instead began to look sullen again, he decided it was perhaps best to not pry. “You don't need to tell me if you don't want to.”

The brunette shook her head. “No. I think I do need to tell you or I'll never be able to stop thinking about it. It would be nice to have someone I can talk to about it, and it wouldn't be the first time I shared something secretive about me with you, huh?”

“True.” A faint smile appeared as Byleth nodded, recalling the time when Dorothea had exposed her unease about being around him and his deadpan stare, how she thought he could see through her using her popularity as a means to try and woo the right person to care for her later on in life. It never was the case with him, but then he was never naive of how his gaze intimidated others.

“Right... okay.” She took a few measured breaths to gather her wits, closing her eyes as she did, but Byleth noticed them stuttering. He was still unsure if it was right of him to ask in the first place, but if she was willing to do so then he wouldn't stop her. As it was, she was a friend in distress and if he could relieve her of a burden, he would.

“It was... a little over three years ago,” she began, voice heavy and measured, determined yet hesitant about having to regale the professor with her memory. “After the coup in the Kingdom happened, most of the nobles began preparing for the Imperial army, but without someone to unify them they were just defending their territories by that point. Edie led the army into what would become the Dukedom, and we started off by invading the Rowe territory. There's a fortress there, one almost as heavily fortified as Fort Merceus in the Empire. Arianrhod. Have you heard of it, professor?”

“I have,” Byleth nodded. “According to others it was supposedly impenetrable, and it was nicknamed the 'Silver Maiden' because of that.”

Dorothea sharply exhaled. “Well I can tell you for sure it's no longer a maiden. There used to be songs sung about it in the opera house about it's purity and strength, but these days I'm positive that's no longer happening. Anyway, because of its reputation Edie personally led the assault on it. Even with her creepy Relic it still took days before we were able to capture it.”

Byleth's eyes widened at the mention of a Relic. “Edelgard has a Heroes' Relic?”

“You mean you don't know?” Dorothea asked, puzzled. “She received it shortly after the war began from some weird mages dressed in black. They called it 'Amyr'. It looks like a large, spiky hook, but what makes it creepy is the way it moves up and down on its own when she's just holding it.”

Byleth hummed with concern about the mention of Edelgard's new weapon. If she had one now it only served to make her that much stronger than she already was to begin with. If, or when, they fought, he would need to prepare for what this “Amyr” was capable of, as each Relic had its own special and devastating ability associated with it, so long as the wielder held a Crest matching the weapon's Crest Stone.

Yet there was something that puzzled him about this new information. In all of his conversations with Claude about the Relics, never once was an Amyr brought up. Many of the various major Houses in Fódlan held a Relic as a symbol of their status, but Edelgard never spoke of one that the Hresvelg possessed, so he had assumed that they didn't. It could only mean that it was created very recently by these weird mages Dorothea mentioned.

“That's concerning...” he commented while frowning, making a mental note to share this new knowledge with Claude as soon as he could. “I will keep that in mind. Please continue.”

“Right. After Arianrhod was captured, the survivors were brought before Edelgard just outside of its front gate. That's when... t-that's when it happened.” She revealed her unease at how close she was to the worst part with another shiver, her voice quivering as she inhaled to attempt to compose herself.

“Take it easy,” he said softly. “Deep breaths.”

After doing just that a few times, she found enough courage to keep going. “She.. made them an offer. Well, I suppose 'offer' might be too generous, it was more like a choice. They would either help her conquer the rest of the Kingdom and get to live to see the Fódlan she sought, or she would force them to do it... in the... worst way possible...”

“I don't like where this is going...” Now it was his turn to feel uneasy about her memory, and did his best to gulp down that anxiety without her noticing.

“The soldiers... they all refused to fight against the Kingdom, saying they would rather die than live under her rule. Edelgard wasn't going to allow that, not when she could use them to help her win the war. So she decided to... give them a demonstration...”

Byleth looked concerned at her, with how slowly and chillingly low her voice went at the end. He could feel the flame stilling in his chest as he braced himself for what she was going to say. “Demonstration?”

“She had one of the soldiers brought to her... so that all his comrades could see him... and one of those black robed mages came up to him... took a Crest Stone shard and a dagger... and carved his arm open and shoved the shard inside it!” Her voice went several octaves higher as she finally crossed the threshold, spilling out her locked away memory. Tears were forming in her eyes as she recalled with clarity what happened.

“He screamed in pain as the mage put it in there! I could see his bones, and blood just spilled out of the wound! And then it happened! Black tendrils grew out of the wound and wrapped themselves up his arm! And they kept going and going as he just stood there screaming and watching all of this horror! The others were watching in horror! I was watching in horror!”

“Dorothea...” Now he understood why she kept this hidden to herself. She was describing the very similar scenario that he saw years ago with Miklan, the Crest Stone in the Lance of Ruin doing the exact same thing as it wormed its way over his body and covered him from head to toe before it completely engulfed him, twisting him into a Black Beast. Dorothea was not there for when it happened, only the Golden Deer, Sylvain, and Gilbert were, so to see that then, and with purpose, it unnerved her in very much the same way as it did for he and his Deer.

“It just kept going and going, completely covering him! It went in his eye sockets! He kept screaming in agony, begging Edie to stop it, but she just stood there! She just watched this man transform right before our eyes! She didn't even flinch, not a single sign of remorse about what she did! Then he just turned into a pillar of whatever that was and he roared! He turned into a Demonic Beast, professor! She brazenly turned that poor man into one of those things! And she didn't care! She just didn't care! All she said was 'I'll ask again: join the Imperial army and help me liberate Fódlan. As a human or a Demonic Beast, that is your decision.' I just... I just...!”

By that point tears were streaming down her face, and in an instant she practically tackled into Byleth, wrapping her arms around him tightly as she cried into his shoulder. Stunned for a moment by the sudden action, he knew his prior experience with hugs to do the same, and put one arm around her shoulders. Then his free hand went to her scalp and he began massaging it delicately to soothe her.

A part of him didn't want to believe what she had just told him, to think that Edelgard was capable of something so cold as to turn someone into a Demonic Beast just to make a point. Having seen it once before, he wouldn't wish it on anyone else no matter who they were. For the emperor to do so with such willful disregard disheartened him, yet Dorothea's description and where she was now could not be any sort of act as she clung tightly to him, finally able to unload onto someone after years of bottling it up.

Her distress reminded him of the students and how shaken some of them were upon witnessing Miklan's transformation. He remembered visiting them individually once they returned to Garreg Mach to check on them and see if they were okay. Some of them weren't, and he did the best he could to help them move past that disturbing period, whether it meant just talking with them or taking a stroll through the town or forests, but he wouldn't brush off their feelings on the matter.

Marianne in particular had a tough time coping with what they saw, spending less time in class or with the others. Hilda informed him that whenever she tried to approach the timid girl she would just tell her to stay away, and the same was true for the other students who attempted to do the same. At first Byleth opted to give her her space because of this, but when her grades started to slip he called her into his office and was finally able to at least help her get started to being back on track. He didn't know then if she was truly all right after that or if she was just doing it for his sake, but it did at least have the intended desire of her returning to normal.

After a few more moments of them in their embrace, Dorothea was finally able to calm down enough to pull herself away from him. As she looked at him her eyes had become a little more red, and dried tear trails stained her cheeks. Her breathing stuttered as she tried to regulate it back to normal, shoulders rising and falling with every intake.

“I'm...” she tried to speak, but it only came out as a whisper, “I'm sorry, professor. It's just... it's been some time since... I ever really thought of it... the first time I ever told someone..., and...”

“How are you feeling?” he asked, curiosity and concern intermixed within.

“A little better now...” she admitted, sniffing back any further tears from falling. “I've been keeping that to myself for so long... it's nice to finally get that off my chest.” She ran her hands over her face and rubbed her eyes. “How could she do that, professor? To treat a human life like it was some tool for her to use in any way she saw fit?”

“She's willing to do whatever is necessary to win the war,” Byleth guessed, basing it off of his past interactions with her along with what he's learned about her since awakening.

“Even if it means doing something horrible to another human being...”

“And that's why you ran away.”

Dorothea nodded. “After seeing that, and the indifferent reactions from my 'comrades', I resolved to get out of there as soon as I could. Once Edie returned to Enbarr, that's when I took my chance to leave when the new moon came. I kept running for what felt like weeks. I was sure the army was looking for me once it was morning, and kept doing so after that. I was lucky to find a village close to the monastery that would take me in. I... didn't have anywhere else to go, and if I went to any of the major cities in the Empire it would have been a death sentence.”

“It must have been hard,” Byleth said as sympathetically as his monotone voice could muster.

“That's putting it mildly. Not only was I basically a wanted woman, but I couldn't even share what I saw that day. The villagers wouldn't understand, or worse they would think I was crazy. So I've had to live with that for three years since then, always sleeping with one eye open, always worrying that I would be found out.” She stepped a bit closer to him and looked at Byleth square in the eyes, etched with anxiety. “Professor, what happened to that prisoner I wouldn't wish on anyone. That's why I'm afraid of being captured by the Empire. I don't want to turn into one of those things!”

Byleth's own eyes steeled with resolve. “I won't let that happen, Dorothea.”

“And that's why I wanted to join you, professor. Who knows how many people she's changed since then. And worse still, something like that could happen to the others. Bern, Petra, Ferdie, none of them deserve to be treated like tools for Edie's goals. We have to save them, and stop her from doing it to anyone else.”

“I will try. I... don't like the idea of former students turning into Demonic Beasts, and then having to fight them.” Byleth figured Edelgard would continue to use them during the war. They were a weapon she had over the Kingdom and Alliance after all, so it made sense to do so. However he had not forgotten how they were created, Miklan's own transformation still clear in his mind, and to hear that Edelgard so flagrantly turned prisoners of war into Demonic Beasts was appalling. Yet somehow he wasn't upset by the act, but rather saddened at just how far the emperor was willing to go to achieve victory in this war.

“_You couldn't have always been like this, Edelgard...”_ He was now beginning to formulate questions he had to ask her when they finally met. There were so many layers to her that he wanted to have exposed, wanting to find the friend he had before buried underneath it all. Even if she wouldn't back down, he still wanted to hear her justify her actions, why she would go to such great lengths to make the Fódlan she envisioned even it meant abandoning her own humanity in the process. There had to have been a better way.

“That's why you were upset,” Byleth suddenly said as he pondered a little further into both Dorothea's story and her earlier outburst. “You thought I was just like her.”

“...Yes,” Dorothea admitted shamefully. “I did. It wasn't fair of me to have taken it out on you, but seeing that face you made reminded me of Edie's when she did what she did. Then I have to remember that's just your natural expression.” She snickered to herself. “Even after a whole year spent being your student I still haven't been able to read you yet.”

“I've been told I should get into cards before by the mercenaries,” he quipped, his cheek creasing to allow the faintest of a sly smile. “I have a good 'poker face' they said.”

Again she snickered, more amused by the fact that her stoic professor was able to make such a casual comment than the content of it. “They weren't wrong. Have you ever played, professor?”

“I've dabbled with them. Never anything serious. I prefer not to gamble, and we never had enough money to cover our losses should I have lost.”

“Do you miss the mercenary life, professor?”

Byleth paused for a bit to contemplate. Until now no one had ever asked him that question, nor did he ever really think about his past life much after becoming a professor at the monastery. On the one hand it was a simpler way of living, only ever having to worry about when the next meal was, and not getting killed in the middle of an assignment. It was even more so by the fact that his father handled most of the contracts and talking with clients, though he had been brought along to bear witness to those interactions in order to prepare him for the day when he would end up taking over his father's company. They were living off the land, and with the amount of trouble that could brew in Fódlan there was no shortage of opportunities for potential contracts.

But it was never fulfilling for him. Throughout that time he had felt nothing at all for any of it. No sense of satisfaction for a job well done, no joy in being around the other mercenaries, no sadness when they had to part ways. All he knew was to kill and survive, and he thought of himself as little more than an animal, fighting for survival and never allowed to interact with the world beyond what he knew. He now knew there was an underlying reason for his lack of emotion from before, but it stifled anything he might have shared with the other mercenaries. It was lonely, meaningless..., and depressing.

“No,” he answered firmly, masking his contempt for that previous life of his. “I don't.”

“Huh...” she replied, her eyes flashing as she did, “I wasn't expecting that answer, or that you would do it with such resolve. I suppose the life of a teacher really suited you didn't it?”

“I enjoyed being with all of you.” Byleth smiled at the woman, who in turn smiled back at him. There was a deeper answer that lay behind those words, but she couldn't know just how much deeper. No one could.

Off in the distance, they heard the cathedral bell ring its deep requiem, and Byleth tilted his head up in response to gauge the position of the moon. It was nearing its highest point, and as he expected the bell rang eleven times before it finally silenced.

“It's getting late,” he informed her as returned his attention to her. “We should turn in for the night.”

“You go on ahead, professor,” she replied, her brows knitting before looking back toward the hellish scene a little further away, her heart once again heavy with mourning. “I don't think I'll be getting a good night's sleep anyway. I'm going to see if there's anything I can do to help the knights here.”

Byleth was a bit impressed that she had gone from spectating the work being done to wanting to aid in the aftermath. Ordinarily he would want her to turn in and get some sleep as their work would resume tomorrow, but he knew well enough that she was still eyed with suspicion by the knights and decided that this might be a good opportunity to show that she was of no threat to them.

“Very well,” he conceded, “But don't stay out too long. We all need to be at our best for this.” To accentuate that point he crossed his arms over his chest as he said it. Glad as he was that she was taking this step, it would do no one any good if she were too tired to work and train tomorrow.

“Don't worry,” she assured him as she stroked at her long hair to straighten it out. “I won't be up all night. I know there's still plenty more war for all of us, but I can't just stand here and watch the knights work. I help caused this, so I should also help clean it up too.”

“The knights will appreciate that,” he said with a smile, pleased to see her taking the initiative to reach out and participate in the non-glamorous, and ironic, task of clearing the battlefield of the fallen.

“I hope so. Still being looked at like I'm a spy hasn't made my time here easy, despite the Golden Deer treating me as if nothing had changed from our days at the Academy. If these small steps help to change that, then I'm willing to try... even if those steps might be unsavory.”

Byleth nodded, and the brunette took that as a sign of dismissal and proceeded down toward the same pair of knights she saw earlier as they returned with another body in tow. Before she left she turned back toward the former professor one final time. “Thank you for listening to that awful story of mine, professor. I'm glad I was able to finally share it with someone. You don't know how much it was eating away at me.”

“I'm here for all of you,” he answered sincerely, with a light, warm smile to accompany it. She gave him one of her own, a second, heartfelt action of gratitude for taking the cumbersome weight of that memory off of her shoulders. She then sauntered off toward the knights as they came to the cart, both of them looking toward her and seeming to hear her out before tossing the body on with the others. The three of them moved off together in search for more before disappearing into the darkness and leaving the archbishop to himself.

Byleth stretched out his arms into the air and let out a quiet yawn, still feeling a bit sluggish from his long sleep that now mixed with a hard day of his first battle in the war. True to his word, he took no pleasure in what they had to do to the Imperial soldiers, even finding it repulsive that they had to suffer the way they did, but it was necessary in order to survive. That's how it always was for him when it came to taking lives. Though now he had more of a reason to fight than ever, not just for his survival, but for his students as well.

Deciding that he should turn in as well, he went in the opposite direction back toward the monastery to wash up at the bathhouse before ultimately returning to his quarters and getting some much needed sleep before tomorrow, where they would decide their next course of action. Their fight against the Empire was starting off well, and he hoped they could ride off of that high as the war went on.

* * *

_The hallway was dark, foreboding, and cramped as the soldiers led him down toward their destination. He couldn't tell where they were going, and the only sound to be heard were their feet hitting the padded dirt beneath them, and the rattle of chains from the shifting of his ankles and wrists. His vision was blurry, worn out by being denied the bliss of slumber for so long, adding to the speculation of where he was headed._

_The soldiers escorting him cared little for his well-being as they walked slightly faster than him, eyes trained forward, their motions stiff and coordinated as they guided him. The bruises on his skin were a testament to that, not while in captivity, but by those who took their anger out on his defiance against them, their home, and their leader. Their harshness did not end there, as every time they felt he wasn't moving fast enough, the captain would yank at the chain connecting him to his captor to encourage him to speed up._

_Where he was going no one would say. Any time he begged the question, he was met with hostile silence followed by another tug at the chain. His legs were sluggish as he moved on, days of malnourishment and inactivity taking their toll on his body, and the occasions of getting tugged were increasing to the point that the captain barked something and two of the soldiers tightly grabbed his arms to pick up his pace. He wanted to rest, needed to rest, and made it apparent for his captors to understand. The captain cryptically answered his rest would come soon enough._

_There was a light at the end of their journey, yet it did not offer him any hope as it grew closer and closer. With how he had been treated he knew it would not mean freedom, and why would it he asked himself. He was their enemy, the leader of those who sought to defy the emperor and deny her her dream of uniting Fódlan. Despite their prior relation the emperor made it quite clear that she had no intention of giving him any special treatment because of it. Now he could only guess as to what else she had in store for him._

_The light grew intense enough that he had to squint his eyes as the reached the end. When what focus he had returned, he could see he was entering a large, circular area, empty of anything except more dirt and dread. Curved walls towered above him, with three more entryways across from and him and off to the sides, and rows of benches and seats that encompassed the tops of those walls. They were lined with people, hands cupping around their mouths as they spit obscenities at him, denigrating him to nothing more than scum despite the power he held. Power that was all but useless now as he had no idea what all he could do with it._

_The soldiers brought him to the center for all to see, and they turned him toward a specific direction, toward the more lavish part of the arena. There, up above the crowd looking down at him was none other than the emperor, with her sinister-looking adviser at her side, and flanked by guards. He couldn't make out her face, but he wondered if she might be enjoying herself, to see her most powerful foe literally beneath her and at her mercy._

_His bindings were undone, and as soon as the guards left was when objects began to fly toward him, the collective fury of the crowd increasing now that their own was out of the way. Many of them missed their mark, but some landed home at various parts of his body, the pain magnified by how weak he had become. He was too lethargic to try and get out of the way, no matter how much he wanted to will himself to move, to try and avoid any more of damage to his body._

_He heard more trudging of feet of to his side, and the flame grew cold and low as he saw who was being led out to meet him. Claude and the others were in the same way he had been, all looking as equally worse for wear as he did. Their clothes were torn, cuts and bruises decorated what exposed skin there was, and their hair and faces looked just as disheveled as his. Yet as soon as they saw him, he did not think the flame could become any smaller as they met his gaze with looks of betrayal, or hurt. They silently demanded how he could let this happen to them, how he had failed to protect them from this. He could give no answer as no words would form, blaming himself for this predicament and agreeing with their accusations._

_Yet one thing puzzled him as they too were forced to face the emperor. There was only seven of them. Where was Marianne?_

_Once their bindings were undone, a couple of his Deer fell to the ground, their bodies having never had the kind of the strength they needed to endure their torment as they were almost never on the front lines. Raphael went to help Ignatz up, while he went to aid Lysithea. As he bent down to lift her, the woman only glared at him before pushing him away, insisting she didn't need his help, not anymore, and slowly crept herself back up. The pain of the declaration hurt far more than any rocks pelting his skin, and he could only stare at her in dismay, his body paralyzed from the confirmation of her feelings on his failure._

_The crowd suddenly died down, and he flung his head to see Edelgard holding up a hand for them to be silent, though her gaze was still directly at her prisoners. That open palm soon turned into a fist before her thumb poked out. Anxiety gripped at him as he held his breath, strangling him as he awaited their fate, even if he already knew in which direction that thumb would turn. Recent days made it very clear that they weren't going to be allowed to live._

_Sure enough, the thumb turned downward, the crowd cheered and jeered, and despair washed over the Deer and their professor. The former students once more looked at him, demanding why he didn't prevent this from happening, why he couldn't rise up to their expectations and protect them, and lead them to victory. He hung his head low and could only stare at the ground, withering under their gaze. They were the last people he ever wanted to let down._

_At once the gate in front of them slowly opened up, and the ground thumped as something large slowly approached them. Panic started to seize him as his eyes grew wider with every footfall of the unknown entity. He had no weapons, none of them did, and they had no where to run. He wanted this opportunity to redeem himself in his students eyes by protecting them now, but the chances of such were almost zero. No amount of Divine Pulses would get him out of this, and he cursed himself for not exploring what else Sothis had granted him when they merged._

Thump

_He took a step back, planting it in the ground._

Thump  
  
_His students did the same.  
  
_Thump

_He brought an arm up to shield Leonie. She was too frightened to swat it away._

_With one final thump, what made the thunderous approach emerged from the darkened tunnel. A hulking Demonic Beast, different than the average one, with razor-sharp teeth, hulking and twitching muscles, and talons that could rip a human to shreds in moments. Its eyes were a piercing red, animalistic, knowing only hunger and death as it salivated at its meal. Those eyes caused him to freeze as fear clawed at him, the flame burning intensely and stinging at his skin, compelling him to run but his feet would not budge._

_Yet for a glimpse as brief as a wink he thought he could see the creature's eyes filled with remorse._

_The creature reared its head, then let out an ugly, otherworldly roar at them, blasting them with wind that sent the eight prisoners skidding back at the force of it all and assailing them with its rancid breath. When the beast finished its war cry, he had a glimpse of the creature's forehead, and saw with horror at what it was. _

_He shouted in defiance and grief, knowing now who it was that would bring about their end, confusion and helplessness setting in as the beast charged. It came directly at him, the biggest threat. In what brief moment he had left he welcomed his end, for he would not live to see his students get torn apart by one who was once as them. He regretted that they wouldn't be so lucky._

* * *

“Ah!” Byleth's eyes flew open as his body shot upward in bed, his blood pumping as fast as it would in battle, and nearly flinging Abigail off of him from the surprising action. She hopped off with haste, meowing with annoyance at her rest being disturbed and dashed over to the corner of the room where her designated bed lay. She stood erect there as she cleaned her paws off, no concern at all for what caused her servant to do such a rude action to her.

Abigail's comfort was the last thing on Byleth's mind right now as he gasped for breath, trying to calm himself down. He scanned his room while his breathing began to steady, needing that sense of security in his moment to know that he was safe. It was difficult to make out even with the full moon beaming in, but everything was still in order as he remembered it. No crowds, no imprisoning walls, and no Demonic Beast barreling toward him. All was as he remembered it before drifting off to sleep only a couple hours prior to his rude awakening.

He slid the comforter and accompanying sheets away from him, ignoring the swift loss of heat and the sting of winter familiarizing itself with him again, and flung his legs to the floor before hunching himself over as his adrenaline began to die down after ascertaining that he was safe. The flame began to cool down back to normal levels and no longer pricked at his skin. His arms rested across both knees as he stared down at the rug beneath him, and his eyes strained to stay open, the sand of sleep trying to keep them shut. He wanted them open for now, not daring to go back to sleep until he was ready.

“_Another nightmare...” _he thought, exhausted. He had been fortunate since his revival a month ago to not have them come back to afflict him, but he should have expected it would not last, and with now yesterday's battle fresh in his mind, what he feared most came back with it to haunt him once more.

This one had been worse than the others. Before, it used to be just random settings, but they all each had a theme. His dear students lying mangled around him, some with cuts from blades or holes from lances, somehow still alive as they bled from their wounds, begging him to help them, pleading for an answer as to why he couldn't save them, protect them. He never had an answer for them, only apologies that did little to heal or comfort them. Those nightmares always ended with him waking up instantaneously, sometimes bringing Sothis along with him who tried to soothe his mind in her usual way of using them as a means to strive to never let it happen, even though he had seen it happen in their early months. It was why he did all he could to ensure they would be their best, and in time the necessity to use his Divine Pulse in battle lessened to almost zero.

He got up and walked over to the cupboards, opening it with a creak and pulling out a metal jug along with a cloth. Dipping the cloth in the water inside, he rubbed his face into it, the cool liquid spurring him to fully wake up as he wiped the sleep from his eyes before dabbing it on his temple, where he could feel sweat beading and trailing down from his hair.

This was the first time he ever woke up from a nightmare in a sweat, but then that was the first time that one took place during their doom, rather than afterward. It was even the first time that he was involved in their deaths, joining them in their fate, but the look in their eyes was all too familiar. He let them down, as he had always done in them, and he had no one to blame but himself for his failure.

And it was now that he began to question what it meant, for something in it struck him in a way that he couldn't shake. The scenario was obvious, Edelgard had won and the resistance lost, and they were being publicly executed in a grisly way. No doubt it was brought on by Dorothea's story of the soldier, his mind running amok as it imagined a worst-case scenario for him and the others. What he did question was whether or not Enbarr even had an arena. He had never been there before, so it could be just his imagination running wild. Even if there was, he suspected Edelgard wouldn't put on such a grand show of their deaths to please an audience. That just wasn't her, of that assessment of her he was sure about.

No, what struck him was the Demonic Beast used to attack them, or rather, what it had. He wondered why Marianne of all people would be selected to be the one to end them. Her Crest would have protected her from such a fate, yet she had assumed a from not unlike that of Miklan in spite of it. What had Edelgard done to her to make her into such a terrifying creature?

He shook his head furiously as he gritted his teeth. He didn't know the answer, and if he allowed his mind to storm he would never fall back asleep, though in the moment that didn't sound like a bad idea. Still, he couldn't impose a double standard on himself, and turned to begin going back to bed.

That's when he noticed something by the door. A piece of paper neatly folded into thirds had been slipped under the gap at the bottom and rested only a few inches away. He cocked an eyebrow at the strange way how someone wanted to speak with him. Knocking would have been better, and with what had happened only moments ago he wouldn't have been bothered by it either.

He went over to bend down and pick up the letter, bringing it over to his desk, but not before opening his door just a crack. Once that was over he sat down at his desk and ignited a candle perched on its shelf. He squinted for a moment at the source of light, allowing his vision to adjust before opening the letter.

Inside it was almost blank, “Let's talk” were its only words, but it was the signature at the bottom that made his eyes go wide: the outline of a bird.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I decided I didn't want to do the battle as I didn't really find it all that significant. Though with the battle that will eventually take place at Ailell, I will have to do that one as that will be where Ashe makes his first appearance.
> 
> Instead I wanted to explore what the game doesn't do, nor any other for that matter, and that's to see the aftermath of all these battles. Obviously they don't show up because that would be boring, but the bodies of everyone you kill don't just vanish into thin air and make clean up a breeze. Especially when you light half the abandoned town on fire and you give your enemy a pretty gruesome demise.
> 
> There's also the thing how battles can scar people when they see, and cause, so much death. It can either create new and terrible memories, or in this case bring back old ones.


	11. Wolf Pact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With a victory under their belt, the resistance starts off on a high note. A group not quite forgotten takes notice, and now Lysithea and Byleth descend below to determine just what it is the Ashen Wolves request of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been too long since I last updated, but then I have been distracted with real life stuff recently, so I've had to divert my attention to that. I have not given up on this yet, and it shows as this is my longest chapter yet! xD

With her arms crossed over her chest and a frown on her face, Lysithea stood just outside of the entrance to what was once Jeritza's room at the knight barracks. She was staring intently at the open, wrought-iron gate as a light snow fell from the gray blanket of clouds above. It was the first snowfall of the year, and if she weren't waiting around she might have enjoyed watching the white flakes fall and collect on the ground. She was at least grateful that enough had gathered on the ground to form a thin coat to muffle the sound of her tapping foot.

She never liked standing around and waiting. It was time she could be spending doing something else, anything at all productive even it was as trivial as hanging laundry or washing dishes. Chores really, but nevertheless they needed to be done regardless if there was a war or not. At least then she would be busying herself to help others rather than wasting their time and her own. And she couldn't afford to waste any time.

Professor Byleth was at least keeping her company, and to his credit appeared unfazed by her clear impatience. He was standing as still as a statue with his head tilted up at the sky, doing exactly what she would want to do if her mind wasn't preoccupied. He almost seemed to be looking at the snow in wonderment and not even when a flake or two landed on his stony face did he flinch at the cold, wet contact.

“This can't possibly be the first time you've seen snow, professor,” she commented with a quizzical raise of her brow, trying to strike up conversation to alleviate the boredom. She felt a shiver coming on, so she grasped at her shawl for a moment to bring it closer to her. Comfortable and insulating as it was, it had its limitations, and the chill was nipping at the bare skin it covered from the gaps at its ends. “And I know it's not your first winter.”

“It isn't the first time,” he confirmed without diverting his attention away. Lysithea was astounded that his normal mercenary clothes could keep him so warm. They didn't look particularly thick, yet he showed no signs of being affected by the cold.

“Then why do you look so mesmerized by it?”

“I find it fascinating.”

Her other brow rose slightly. “In what way?”

“The paradox of it.” Lysithea blinked, but found herself intrigued by his answer. It certainly wasn't what she was expecting.

“The... paradox of it?” she repeated, mentally urging him to clarify.

He nodded. “It's so calm and serene when it falls. It's also quite destructive, and disruptive. Children love it; adults hate it. It can either be tranquil as it is now, or a raging blizzard.” He held out his hand palm up, and in a moment a flake made its descent onto it, his eyes trailing it as it did, and it immediately melted away. “Something so small and pretty... It packs so much potential, then before long it fades away and is forgotten...”

Lysithea found herself becoming downcast all of a sudden, and the freezing air didn't seem as cold anymore. She held out her own hand to catch a flake, and it stayed in hers for a little longer before it too disappeared. She didn't think she'd ever find herself sympathizing with snow of all things, yet as ever the professor offered an astute observation that made her reconsider what she originally thought. Yet for the first time she found herself regretting asking him to explain himself.

“Are you cold, professor?” she asked before stroking one of her side tails, quietly sighing in resignation as she did.

“No,” he said, “I don't feel the cold.”

Her curiosity returned to her as she took a moment to read his face, and saw that his cheeks were not colored at all. While it made some sense for him to say so since he was fully-clothed, and in black, his face remained as pale as ever, as though it were spring or summer. How was it, she wondered, that she was only now noticing this?

“You don't?” He answered with a shake of his head. “How?”

Byleth brought his gaze now to his chest, furrowing his brows slightly as he glared at where his heart was. “I... don't know how to explain it. There is this... fire here.” He tapped the location, and she noticed that he winced when he did so, barely noticeable to the untrained eye, but she had become good at reading him after all. “I don't know why it's there, but it keeps me warm in times like this.”

“That's certainly convenient...” she uttered in amazement. Even for someone like him this was particularly unusual to have. A man who barely expressed any emotion also has a way to regulate his body temperature. Even now he continued to be full of surprises to her. “But I don't understand. I've never heard of anyone having anything like that before. How is that even possible?”

He paused momentarily, brows dipping a little further into an angle of what looked like frustration and she worried briefly if she might have been a little too invasive.

“It may have something to do with my lack of a heartbeat...”

Lysithea's eyes widened in shock at this newfound knowledge. If she didn't know him as well as she did, she might have thought he was joking with her. “You don't have a heartbeat?! That shouldn't be possible! How... how are you even alive professor?!”

“I have a pulse,” he informed, though it didn't do much to remove the anxiety she was suddenly feeling about the now medical phenomenon that was her former professor. “My blood is still being pumped. I don't know how that's possible either. All my life I wanted to know why this was happening to me.” He looked her in the eye with resolution. “And that is why I must find Rhea. My father suspected she might have done something to me as a baby. I need to know what.”

Now it was starting to make sense as to why he joined them. They all had their own personal stake in the war in some fashion, her especially so with what the Empire was responsible for, and now she had just discovered his. It was one she found herself hoping he would accomplish. Rhea had shown such an odd interest in the professor ever since he was first welcomed to Garreg Mach years ago, and if there was something behind all of that she would like to know what that was along with him.

And that was when more less-than-pleasant thoughts started to whirl in her mind. She began to wonder if Rhea might have done something to him similar to what was done to her. Perhaps not in the exact same way, she reasoned, for the Church and the Empire had been rather hostile to each other even before Edelgard declared war on it. That didn't mean that Rhea couldn't have done something all on her own, something that would have been unique to her. If that was the case, she did an awfully good job of hiding how sinister she could be behind that distinguished and serene air she always carried herself in. Lysithea had seen before how unsettling Rhea can be, and she thought the attention she was giving to Professor Byleth was uncomfortable, even to her. And they still had no clue as to just what the archbishop intended for him at the Holy Tomb five years ago.

The fact that Rhea has had this sort of influence on his life ever since he was born made it all the more unnerving for her. He had been a mercenary all his life, even having no prior knowledge to the Church and its teachings, yet even then the archbishop still affected him. He lived without emotions, without a heartbeat, and was kept isolated from the world all because of Rhea. Just what exactly did Rhea do to him that caused this?

“I hope you find what you're looking for, professor,” she remarked. “And... if it isn't too much trouble, when you do, would you mind sharing what you learn with me?”

“Really?” he asked, his voice matching the surprised look on his face. He must have never thought she would take an interest in it. Her suspicions were just speculation, but the mystery surrounding him and his firm belief that Rhea had the answers to that mystery were more than enough to pique her desire to learn to the truth about him.

She nodded. “I never knew all of that about you. If Rhea had something to do with your lack of a heartbeat and this unusual fire within you, then I want to know what she's done to my friend.”

His eyes relaxed to her at her interest in his origins, and his surprise gave way to a small smile causing her to warm up on the inside and her heart to beat faster. “When I find out, I will let you know.”

She gave him a smile of her own, something she had been told before was a rare sight to see of her, but she had found herself doing so around him moreso than others. His own was infectious with how soft and genuine it was, and it always seemed to have a calming effect on her. “Thank you. Although... you said 'when'. What makes you think Rhea will tell you the truth about your unique situation? If she didn't before, why would she now?”

The smile disappeared and the brows furrowed again as he looked back up at the fluffy, gray sheets above. “I'm not giving her a choice.”

Lysithea felt a shiver go down her spine, and it wasn't from the cold. These were the times where she was reminded that he could still be the intimidating “Ashen Demon” he was known for despite the side of him that she and the others normally saw.

She could understand why he felt so determined to find those answers. From prior interactions he knew next to nothing about his own past, and apparently the mercenary life had been so dull that he never went too far into detail about any particular contract he and his father were given. To discover why one was so different from everyone else would be something she would be curious to find out if such a thing happened to...

Her eyes fell to the ground in melancholy as she reminded herself that she was different from everyone else, and she hated it. Not at the fact that she was different, but why she was. What she wouldn't give to be normal again. She must have been before, she wasn't born like this she knew, but that time held no memories for her. All that was there was pain, darkness, and the echoes of screaming children reverberating off the walls as they were dragged and-

She wrenched her eyes shut in an attempt to banish those thoughts from her mind. She did not want to get lost in them again and make a scene in front of Professor Byleth.

Then again, perhaps this was why she had felt such a strong connection to him in the first place. Despite how much she had come to interact with her fellow Golden Deer, she never completely felt as though she was one of them. None of them went through what she had, and none of them would ever understand what she went through to become what she is now.

With the professor he too appeared so out of place, not only among them, but everyone around him. With no emotion to begin with, and how little he spoke outside of lectures, it was almost as if he wasn't there half the time. She thought him even stranger than she was, but as time went on it was because of that strangeness, as well as his ability to bring out the best in her, that drew her to him. She appreciated his honesty, admired his knowledge and strength, and she realized that she wanted to be more than his student, but also his friend.

With the others, her friendship with them happened incidentally, though she credited Professor Byleth for bringing them together in such a way. With him however, she sought a friendship with this peculiar man, his unusual existence attracting her to that prospect. She wanted to know more about him, though was vexed that he could not provide as he did not know more about himself, adding to his mystery. Now she knew that Rhea may be behind most, potentially all, of that mystery, and she shared his determination to unravel it.

She found herself smirking as she recollected these times. To think that it all began with just talking about the weather, a topic she knew usually led to nowhere. Just one more of those strange aspects of him.

“Hilda is taking a long time, isn't she?” she remarked unamused, returning to her earlier annoyance at the delay they were dealing with.

“She has taken on more responsibilities,” Byleth pointed out as he looked back at her. “Something may have come up.”

“I suppose... I just don't like having to wait around when there are other tasks to be completed.” Lysithea let out a sigh of exasperation. “I have to give her credit though. The fact that she is taking on more responsibilities unto herself is impressive from someone who tried to have others do the work for her instead.”

He nodded as a smile barely noticeable graced his features. “Her work ethic has improved. I'm proud of her.”

“I wonder what brought it on...” pondered Lysithea, pinching her chin. “She didn't seem like the type to give up on that behavior so easily.”

“Perhaps all she needed was the right motivation.”

Before she could voice an inquiry about what he meant, the Goneril woman at last appeared from around the corner, her boots hurriedly clopping against the glazed pavement as she made her way over to them. Both of them noticed how she was panting somewhat, her chest heaving as she recovered from her fast pace.

“Sorry I'm late!” she said with an apologetic grin before adjusting her own shawl that had started to slip from her shoulders. “One of the orphans Dorothea brought with her tripped and sprained his ankle, so I carried him to the infirmary to have one of the clerics look after him.”

Lysithea couldn't help but feel guilt creep in seeing as how her impatience was unfounded with Hilda, now knowing that she was helping an injured child to get healed as opposed to taking her time to get here from a lack of interest. Even now she realized that she still underestimated her pink-haired friend.

“Will he be okay?” asked Byleth, tilting his head in concern.

“Oh I think he'll be fine, professor! It was just a little sprain. He's still young, but I couldn't just leave him there, especially when he was crying so much.” She chuckled a little, which brought a raised brow from her companions at the sudden humor she was finding in it. “I felt like my brother that whole time and how he used to rush me back to our home whenever I happened to injure myself when we were younger. Come to think of it... knowing him he'd probably still do it even now.”

“He dotes on you that much?”

She let out a tired sigh. “Professor, you have no idea. He's been like that for as long I've known him.”

“Well now that you're here, Hilda,” Lysithea interrupted. She may have a good reason for her tardiness, but they still had an assignment to do. “We should get going. It will be a while before we reach Abyss, and we shouldn't keep the Ashen Wolves waiting longer than we have to.”

Hilda's eyes flashed. “Right, let's get going then! It'll be nice to see Baltie again after these last few years. I wonder how he's been doing...” She paused for a moment as she contemplated before letting out a groan as she hung her head. “I hope he's done something to pay off those bounties of his...”

“This way then.” Byleth led the two women over to Jeritza's room before the three proceeded inside.

The interior had remained unchanged ever since he had been ousted as the Death Knight. The news of his alter ego had spread like wildfire upon Flayn's rescue years ago, but the fact that there was a giant hole in the wall that led into the deeper recesses of the monastery was not as common of knowledge.

There were many winding and forgotten tunnels and halls that snaked beneath Garreg Mach Monastery like a maze, and some of those routes led to the underground town known as Abyss, a place where outcasts and other unfortunates resided and attempted to eek out a living beyond the gaze of those on the surface. The Church tolerated their place there, but rarely made an effort to contact them unless it was necessary, such as Flayn's kidnapping and how the denizens of Abyss were all considered suspects.

“I never thought I would have to go through this again...” commented Lysithea. Truth be told she did want to visit Abyss during her time as a student, but she had always kept herself so busy with her studies and training that she barely ever had time to explore it herself.

“At least we know the Death Knight won't be there,” said Hilda. “Although if he is down there, I'm confident you and the professor will handle it.”

“He won't be,” stated Byleth as he moved toward the bookcase. “He's fighting for the Empire. Someone of his power would be a waste here.”

“Not unless Edelgard could somehow see into the future,” countered Lysithea while Byleth moved the bookcase aside, revealing the large hole that led below behind it. “And since that kind of power is impossible to have, we don't need to worry.”

Byleth nodded in agreement, then took out a torch tied to his belt and held it before Lysithea, the latter summoning a small fireball cupped in her hand and lighting it for him. It didn't take long for it to grow into a suitable light source, the flame flickering with its gentle, warm glow. The three of them proceeded into the tunnel, making sure to leave the entry open for when they would return.

Lysithea couldn't shake a sense of foreboding as they starting making their way down as her goosebumps made their presence known. She couldn't say she was thrilled about going down here given her history where this had led to as the memories of descending into the underground complex returned, but then the professor did ask for her to come along on this diplomatic mission in case the situation would, somehow, take a turn for the worse. She admitted, however, that it was also an attempt to satisfy her curiosity of just what exactly Abyss had to offer.

As her eyes wandered around the tan, stone walls that felt as if they threatened to close in on her any moment, she realized that there was also another reason she was feeling tense. It felt too encroaching, and if it wasn't for the fact that Hilda and the professor were with her she might have started to panic. Making the situation worse than that would be if Professor Byleth didn't have the foresight to bring along a torch to illuminate the way, though considering there were no sconces to note it was more a practical reason than anything else. Still, she did make sure that they were equipped with one or else she might have refused to come along despite her interest in visiting Abyss.

And of course to ward off any potential for ghosts. With how narrow the tunnel was any sort of apparition could just appear at any moment, and without light she feared what would happen to her then. Especially if she came alone, though she would never dare do so.

While they wound their way down, Lysithea thought back to the battle only a couple of days ago. The path to her group's destination was sparsely packed for a time until some of the pegasus knights spotted them and attempted to take out the smaller group, oblivious to what they were going to do. Luckily Shamir was assigned to her, and with her skill was able to pick them off without too much hassle. On the ground she, Catherine, and Raphael were able to handily deal with what minimal forces were put between them and their rally point, thanks in large part to her and Catherine wielding their respective Heroes' Relics to amplify their already impressive strength.

That was at least one advantage she knew their resistance had. With her, Catherine, Claude, Hilda, and the professor each wielding a Heroes' Relic, it made up for what they lacked in numbers compared to the Empire. Lysithea noted that there weren't as many reinforcements as she would have thought, but she attributed that to Edelgard not knowing that Professor Byleth had returned and was leading them. Had the emperor known, there would have been a higher possibility of more casualties on their side, perhaps even defeat. She hoped that his presence would remain hidden for as long as possible, but knew that it wouldn't be long before his return would be known to emperor.

What impressed her the most about the battle was that she was able to keep those following her orders alive. While it did certainly help that the main fighting forces were more toward the town proper, the fact that her part in the battle went so well was a spirit booster for her, and the gratitude of her troops added to that. Fortunately it wasn't daunting for her to do thanks in large part to Professor Byleth's discretion of training her and the other students to command battalions. With her keen mind she excelled at it more than others, and it served her well in the battle.

It was all the more satisfactory when he congratulated her after the battle for successfully leading them. It still felt a little silly to be flattered by his praise as she was no longer his student, but to know that her efforts from then had paid off in her first true test of her leadership was uplifting. It was proof enough for her that their continued time spent together going over their micromanagement of the troops was more than worth it. Perhaps now he would be willing to let her command a larger number of troops. A daunting proposition, but one she was ready to face given her prior success.

“I wonder how the people in Abyss are doing with the war...” Hilda pondered aloud. That was one more factor into her unease with traveling: no one was talking.

“They probably kept to themselves,” Byleth suggested. “I imagine some may have tried to take advantage of the chaos.”

“That's certainly a possibility,” Lysithea commented. “There are plenty of rogues that live down there, but there are also others that might just be trying to escape the war.”

“I'm surprised Baltie and the others didn't join us after we came back,” said Hilda before sighing. “I really hope he didn't get into any more trouble while we were away. He's already got enough bounties on his head.”

“It is strange that they never showed up. Surely the activity taking place at the monastery didn't go unnoticed by them, especially since it was abandoned for five years.”

Hilda giggled. “Well they certainly didn't miss the explosion courtesy of our own little Lysithea a couple days ago!”

Lysithea's eyes furrowed as her nostrils flared. “Excuse me?! I happen to be much taller than I was before, Hilda. I'm even taller than you now!”

That managed to bring out a pout from the Goneril. “Yeah, what is with that anyway?! Five years later and I haven't grown one whole centimeter! Suddenly I'm the shortest in our group!” Hilda did a cursory scan of her before beaming. “But I'm still more surprised by you, Lysithea! You've matured remarkably since our Academy days! And your wardrobe is absolutely striking! It really accentuates that beauty I always thought you had. Who designed it anyway?”

The mage managed a proud, but warm smile on her face. Being called mature even now always had a way of flattering her. “My mother did actually, though I did input my own suggestions. It was her idea to gift me something special once I came of age... and...” She found herself trailing off and unable to describe the scenario further, that dreaded resignation returning. Back then the excitement of working with her mother to make her this dress was likely the most she had been since the Officers Academy. Now upon uttering her age all it did was remind her that there wouldn't be many more birthdays left for her, not that she ever really celebrated them anyway.

Hilda quirked her head, puzzled about the sudden change in mood from her companion. “You okay, Lysithea? That smile of yours went away just as soon as it came.”

Lysithea shook her head. “It's nothing, Hilda. No need to worry about me.” It was a familiar tactic of hers. Shrug off any concerns whenever she felt the topic steering toward that uncomfortable territory. Even now she still tried to keep some measure of distance from everyone. There was nothing they could do for her; better to let them believe everything was fine.

Hilda only responded with a quizzical look before she got the hint and decided to drop the subject. As for the professor, Lysithea noticed him turn his head slightly, enough for him to see her before he faced forward again. She wondered what he might be thinking in that tiny-cracked mind bowl of his, as Claude once described him.

It didn't take her long to piece together that perhaps he recognized that she was deflecting Hilda just like she did to him, though with less defense than before. It made sense if it were the case, as he was nothing if not observant of others. It was a particularly useful skill of his that she respected, allowing him to not only notice flaws in their training, but it let him be able to read people in conversation too. She figured that was one of the major reasons why he was so liked by her and the others during the Academy, for he knew when to offer advice, or when to remain neutral or back away from a subject if they didn't want to broach it.

It might have even helped him prevent him from calling her a child like so many others did during that year, but as she discovered, he never noticed that until she brought it up. At first she believed it to be a lack of attentiveness toward his students, but as she later found out, he doesn't take age or appearance into account when assessing a person's abilities. If they can perform a job and do it well without sacrificing their integrity, then it didn't matter how old they were or what they looked like. That non-judgmental outlook he had of others was something she wished some of the students had, and even some of the other professors.

After several minutes of going down corridors that all seemingly looked the same, they arrived at what was an all too familiar room, and it caused her to shudder as she became reacquainted with it. It was this chamber where they encounter the Death Knight for a second time in their search for a kidnapped Flayn, along with meeting the forces that served the Flame Emperor, who they knew to be Edelgard. A tumultuous affair she recalled, but Professor Byleth was able to keep a level-head despite the opponent he was facing, and while he kept the terror distracted she and the others fought their way over to where Flayn and another girl, Monica, were unconscious.

The room was as dark as every corridor they went through so far, yet it only made Lysithea tense up more as the light from the torch only extended so far, unable to reach the further depths where it was as black as the void and seemingly swallow whatever light tried to approach it. The only sounds being made were the flicker of the flame, and the controlled breathing of the three souls inside.

“Didn't think we'd ever have to come here again...” commented Hilda, with a twinge of anxiety. Her voiced echoed somewhat off the walls, and Lysithea wished Hilda wouldn't speak so loud for fear of attracting unwanted, ethereal attention. She did not voice it for she herself as she did not want Hilda to know about her phasmophobia. “This place still looks as creepy and dilapidated as when we first came here.”

“Whoever built these tunnels long ago knew what they were doing,” remarked the professor as he approached one of the stone columns supporting the roof. He crouched down and rubbed his hand across it and a faint cloud of dust erupted before quickly scattering in varying directions. “Sturdy. Strong. Impressive construction for its time.”

“Look could we please just keep going?!” Lysithea practically demanded, her voice louder than she would have liked as it echoed off the walls, causing her to jolt in her spot. “We don't need to spend time admiring the craftsmanship of these d-dark, enclosing walls, or reminiscing about what we did here! Professor, where do we go next?!”

When he looked up into her eyes they were almost begging him to proceed with their trek. He was no stranger to her fear, her having blurted it out back when he was still their teacher, and he must have known that she was on edge ever since starting this whole journey because of it. Able to read the message she was trying to convey, he nodded and stood up, and it was then she realized that she had instinctively followed over to where he was, a moth guided by the flame and not wanting to be trapped in darkness.

“Over here.” He led them over to a corner of the wall, which did little to alleviate her anxiety of leaving this place as soon as possible. He began to feel some of the bricks with his free hand, rubbing them as though searching for something and trying to recollect. After a few seconds he found a brick that, upon closer inspection, jutted out a little more than the others though not enough to be noticed with a cursory glance. He pressed his fingers into the rock, and surprisingly or not, it sunk into the wall until they heard a soft click.

Off to the side was the sound of stone grinding against stone, and suddenly a section of the wall began to pull itself back. Lysithea watched as it did so, amazed that there was a secret passageway here this whole time, and they never knew about it when they first came down. She understood that there was a whole network of tunnels down here, but to think there might exist even more made her wonder just how deep below ground the monastery went. What sort of secrets were buried beneath Garreg Mach, forgotten to time and waiting for someone to discover them?

“A secret passage, huh?” said Hilda, less impressed than Lysithea was. “It really makes you wonder what all these underground tunnels were made for in the past...”

“I'm wondering that myself...” added Lysithea.

Hilda chuckled to herself. “Claude would have a field day with this if he wasn't so swamped with work.”

“I recall him being rather vexed that he couldn't come.”

“Well, as Professor Byleth pointed out, we do need to have at least one of our Leader Men on the surface to handle things while we're gone. Though it was pretty funny to see him get bothered so much by it.”

“Not to mention it was the professor's invitation to Abyss, and not Claude's.” Logical as it was, Lysithea did draw some amusement about seeing Claude denied the opportunity to explore the monastery's depths for its secrets.

“This was a passage that an Abyssian guide took me down before,” explained the professor, unfazed by the girls' conversation. “It's faster than the old route he took me once we discovered it.” With that, he stepped into the new passage and beckoned the two women to follow him. Both of them spared a chance to look at each other, curious as to just what else the professor knew during the Academy days, before following close behind him.

While they proceeded to once more go through darkened, nondescript tunnels and rooms, Lysithea returned to her thoughts, specifically what Hilda had mentioned earlier about the Abyssians only now being interested in speaking with the resistance. She didn't worry so much about why they never offered to help as they were already people that preferred to mind their own business rather than aid anyone for a good cause. It was especially true when she had to consider that they would be more or less fighting for the Church, an entity that is responsible for their predicament in the first place. It made sense that they wouldn't leap at the chance to fight for the very thing they despised, even with a change in leadership.

However there were four individuals that were more inclined to do so, and that was where she was confused. Yuri, Constance, Hapi, and Balthus all were brought in by Professor Byleth to be his students, even though they weren't in any official capacity, after some incident that took place in the cathedral, which everyone involved, including the professor, was keeping silent about. For whatever reason, they did not come to the class's reunion a month ago, leaving her wondering why they decided not to attend. Yuri she could at least understand as his priority was the well-being of those in the Abyss as its de facto leader, but the other three she didn't see any reason why they wouldn't save for Hapi. With the letter that the professor mentioned he received a couple days ago, she was anticipating that now would be the time when they would join up.

Which was the reason why they were waiting for Hilda a little while ago. The lack of attendance from the former Ashen Wolves the professor took to meaning that they were either uninterested, or might have forgotten about it altogether. Judging from the note that the so-called “Savage Mockingbird” had sent to him the night after the battle two days ago, she drew the conclusion that they were aware of their presence, and perhaps was wanting to see if their resistance was worth supporting. Either way, it was suggested that Hilda come along and at least use her past connection with Balthus to bring him to the cause... or in case things took a turn for a worse, they would have the extra strength to aid them.

“Are you doing okay, Lysithea?” she was asked randomly, snapping her out of her thoughts to see that Professor Byleth had his head turned toward her slightly. His face betrayed no emotion, yet she knew he asked due to what he knew about her.

“Yeah, you've been awful quiet over there,” Hilda pointed out with a raised brow. Upon inspection she realized had been silent quite for a while.

“I'm fine,” she assured them. “I'm just thinking about everything that's been going on, with this and with the war.”

She nodded. “It is a lot to think about, especially now that we have a victory to start our part in it. With that detachment out of the way we can see if the merchants will want to come here now. Ugh, and Claude already wants me to go out and see if that's possible...”

Lysithea replied with an impressed smirk. “You know Hilda, the professor and I were talking about you earlier, how you've become much more responsible than during our time at the Academy.”

Hilda's eyes went wide at the observation. “Oh come on, I don't think-”

“She's right,” said Byleth, offering the woman a faint smile of approval. “You're management of the others has been a great relief for all of us.”

If she was flustered before, now Hilda was blushing from the praise she was receiving. “P-please don't think this means you can raise your expectations of me! There's just so much to do, and we can't expect Claude to handle everything, can we? With what he has going on, he'd probably mess something up, and then who knows what'll happen at that point. I'm just helping him out to make sure that he doesn't make life difficult for me.”

Lysithea giggled to herself at Hilda's embarrassment. It was a rare sight to see the pink-haired girl this way, especially when she knew she helped to bring it out of her. Naturally she would try to spin it as such that she's doing it for her own benefit. Given her behavior during the Academy Lysithea would normally believe that, but the fact that no one, not even Claude, asked Hilda to take on these responsibilities made her think otherwise. It reminded her that she and the others in the Golden Deer had grown so much since they were students, some more drastic like Marianne, and others more subtle like Claude. Whether it was through finally entering the adult life, or because of the war, or a combination of both she couldn't say, but she was glad for it nonetheless.

The three of them engaged in small-talk as they continued onward, jumping from one topic to the next as they made the relatively dull journey to Abyss, with Lysithea being grateful for the noise now to keep her mind off of what might be lurking in the shadows. The conversations were mostly carried by the two women though they tried to include the professor as much as they could, a hard task for someone who spent nearly all his life separate from others.

* * *

After what felt like hours of going through rooms and tunnels that looked no different than the other, they at last finally arrived at an archway. Beyond it, the area was well-lit and they could hear the sound of flowing water passing underneath the bridge before them. From their distance, Lysithea could make out makeshift shelters, propped up with wooden beams or planks and topped off with boards tightly strung together, puzzling her as there was no threat of inclement weather. There were a pair of children playing with each other on the opposite side, and two adults hunched over a fire far enough away to not burn one of the wooden roofs.

“So this is Abyss...” said Lysithea, downtrodden by the sight. The squalid conditions were something she wasn't used to seeing as the life of a noble meant that she would only ever look upon such a place if she tried. She knew places like Abyss existed, but to see it with her own eyes reminded her that not everyone got to live a cozy life like she could, a product of the system currently in place.

“Hasn't changed at all since the last time I was here,” remarked Hilda. “But judging by the look of things the war doesn't appear to have affected anyone.”

“Unless there are refugees further in. I imagine Abyss would be far from a priority for the emperor, assuming she even remembers this place exists.”

“Well she was with us when we first came here, but you're probably right Lysithea. And from what I remember about Yuri he wouldn't let any harm come to the people here no matter what.”

Lysithea's eyes shifted to the floor in concern. “And it's that connection with the people of Abyss that has me concerned about whether or not he and the others would be willing to join us.”

Hilda turned her head to Lysithea, eyes widened by the thought. “Come on Lysithea! They were our classmates before! That has to count for something... right, professor?”

“That's my hope,” he stated nonchalantly while nodding. “But we won't know until we find out.”

“Then let's not waste anymore time wondering what may or may not happen,” replied Lysithea directly, flexing her fingers in determination.

“Stay on guard,” cautioned their professor as both of them lifted their feet to go, pausing in mid-air. “There is still a possibility that it could be a trap. Yuri is shrewd and cunning. He'll do what he thinks is best for Abyss, not us.” Both women nodded their acknowledgment, then the three of them proceed across the bridge.

Almost immediately as they did Lysithea took in just how big Abyss was. The ceiling must have been at least three stories high, and the walls seemed to stretch for several meters before finally meeting the adjacent ones. A large, box-shaped structure was off a little further in to the right that was connected to the central hub of Abyss by a series of three small bridges over a channel. The central hub was much more open, yet it was divided up by wooden fences that must have been erected by the denizens over a period of time. She had to admit that this place was not was she was expecting; it looked more like an enclosed township rather than a ruined chamber.

Which brought the question once more to her mind as to what the purpose this labyrinth network of chambers and corridors were once used for. They must have had a purpose at one point, but whatever books that happen to mention them in the library never went into detail about what that purpose was. There were at least a couple of rooms that seemed to function as burial chambers from long ago, and they even passed through a particularly large room that had massive statues of the four saints of the Church on each side of a square arena-like center, which likely functioned as the training grounds on the surface, but she couldn't say for sure.

She didn't take too long in her pondering before the three rounded a wooden fence, and her curiosity disappeared as her heart sank at the sight she beheld. The barrier had masked her fear, and before them were multiple small groups of people that she knew to be families huddle around various campfires. As she scanned the crowd she could see all manner of their plight. Many of those present were mothers with their children, some only children, and others with one or more siblings, and even orphans were among their ranks. Those with mothers were sitting next to them, bundled up in blankets as they tried to keep warm from the cold air that seeped its way down from above. Some at least had the good fortune of having well-kept clothes, but many unfortunate others were torn, and judging from the look of them it was the only change of clothing that any of them had with them.

Their faces were those of misery she saw, all very aware of their condition. One boy had tears developing in his eyes, sniffling and telling his mother how cold he was. The woman could only comfort her son as best she could, trying to say things were okay. Another group she saw were just two small girls, twins, staring into the fire with blank gazes not unlike that of Professor Byleth. They were keenly aware of their predicament, and Lysithea could only wish that they didn't have to be, to never have had to grow up so fast like she did. Worse still was what they might grow up to be like without their parents to guide them. She at least still had hers despite what she went through; with them she wondered how they would turn out now.

“This is horrible...” she uttered, just loud enough for her two companions to hear her.

“There were definitely not this many people the last time I was here,” informed a saddened Hilda. “All of these refugees from the war... I don't see any fathers here, and some of them don't even have mothers either. Those poor orphans...”

“All of them must have come from the Dukedom,” surmised Lysithea, who felt her brows furrowing as she did. “Their lords should have been helping them repair their broken homes, and I doubt Cornelia is doing anything at all to get them to do just that. They're probably more concerned about protecting their own borders or contributing to the total downfall of what's left of the Kingdom.” It was then Lysithea noticed that Professor Byleth appeared saddened too. His eyes were cast down to the stone floor, brows knitted slightly, and his hands were curled into fists. “Are you okay, professor?”

“This reminds me of what happened to Remire,” he lamented, though if she didn't know him better than she wouldn't have been able to tell. As he spoke the name of that village his fists tightened, to the point where she could hear the sound of his gloves being squeezed.

The destruction of Remire village was the first time Lysithea had ever seen her professor so troubled by anything. The destruction that Solon and his lackeys brought to the peaceful village disturbed even her, what with some of the people clawing and tearing at each other. They saved everyone they could, but the village had gone up in flames by the time they were finished, so harsh was the rampage of the crazed villagers. The survivors were all brought to Garreg Mach afterward, and now that she could see his mood presently, what was before them reminded him of that day, and how he thought he failed them.

“This isn't your fault,” she stated soothingly. “This is the work of Cornelia and those supporting her. From what I have heard about the state of the Dukedom, Cornelia has done little for the people of the Dukedom. She taxes them heavily, and most of her focus is along the border between the Dukedom and what remains of the Kingdom.”

“Still...” he uttered, continuing to look upon the crowd of refugees.

“It does put this war into perspective, yes,” she finished, joining him in his scanning, her heart going out to those who were suffering from the war.

“Well,” said Hilda, “If we defeat the Empire the Dukedom will probably go down with it. It's only like that now because Edelgard was preparing for this for a long time.”

“And they're probably afraid of what will happen to them if they decide to rebel.”

“And meanwhile it's the people suffering the most because of this war of hers.” The three of them widened their eyes at the sharp, but smooth-sounding voice that suddenly made his presence known.

They reared their heads to the side to see a familiar face walked towards them across the bridge from the box-like structure.

Lysithea was able to recognize him immediately, the lavender hair of the man and his soothing voice giving him away. His clothing was much less so, having removed the old Academy outfit he once wore and replaced with something a little more unique. Still fitting in with the color of his defunct “house”, his clothing was of ashen-colored leather, though if it weren't for the gloves and steel boots one would think he wasn't dressed to fight. What stood out the most was the black and violet cape he wore, with a seemingly red and black, jester design for its mantle.

As for his head he still looked the same way as before, though his hair was a little longer than it used to be. His face was still as smooth and well-kept as ever, and he still wore that pinkish eye liner she remembered him wearing back at the Academy. If she had not had seen him before, he could almost be mistaken for a woman until he spoke, something she admitted to falling for in the past before quickly correcting herself.

Probably the only thing that truly stood out from what he was wearing was his Relic, the Fetters of Dromi that was attached to his hand. She had to say that it was probably one of the more disturbing Relics she had ever seen, insomuch that it resembled a bony hand that connected it self to Yuri's fingers by a pair of rings for each digit. She had to wonder just what the Goddess was thinking by making its appearance, and by extension a majority of the other Relics, so unnerving.

“Yuri,” Byleth greeted the man plainly as the Ashen Wolf leader approached them. The professor held out a hand, and Yuri obliged the gesture and shook it. “Good to see you again.”

“Likewise friend, though I have to admit I'm still a bit shocked to see you despite knowing that you were above our heads the whole time this past month. Guess it takes some getting used to, seeing someone come back from the dead.”

Byleth frowned and raised a brow. “I never died.”

Yuri gave him a bemused smile. “Clearly not. I see you got my letter.”

“I did. You accepted your title?”

Yuri rolled his eyes, though as Lysithea could tell it was more about the fact that Yuri even had a title, and not at the professor's question. “I was convinced that it would help to keep my people here safe if others with ill intentions started to think they could take advantage of them. I'm not a fan of it myself, but if it comforts my people knowing they have someone looking out for them, then I can accept it.” He then turned his attention to her. “Lysithea. Hilda. Good to see you both doing well.”

“Nice to see you too, Yuri!” Hilda greeted him. “I like what you've done with your hair!”

Yuri smirked and chuckled. “Is that so? It actually used to be longer, but then I saw what Balthus's was like and decided that having it that long wasn't for me.”

“Where is Baltie by the way? He isn't still here is he?”

Yuri shook his head while still holding his smirk. He tilted his head back toward where he came from. “Off in the dorms, still laying low from bounty hunters despite the war going on.”

Hilda's mouth went agape as her eyes went wide. “You mean he's still in debt?!”

“I know. He took the opportunity to hire himself out as a mercenary to take advantage of his skills as the 'Whatever King of Grappling', but to my understanding he just got himself into more trouble by being too loose with his money... again.”

“Baltie you just...” Hilda planted her hand on her face and sighed in exasperation, and even Lysithea had to roll her eyes at the irresponsibility of the Golden Deer alumnus. “I keep telling him that we're more than willing to help him out, but he just keeps digging himself a deeper hole.”

“It certainly doesn't help that he keeps gambling it away...”

Hilda winced at the detail before sighing again. “I'm going to go have a word with him. I'll be right back.” She made her way past Yuri and went down the direction Yuri originated from, leaving the three of them to dread just what she might end up doing to the poor man, the way she playfully ended her sentence doing nothing to ease them.

Meanwhile, Lysithea decided to address the elephant in the room, her peripheral vision still filled with the surrounding refugees, and her ears hearing the hushed chatter among them. “Yuri... how long have all these people been here?”

Yuri turned to look in a general direction, a somber look plastered on his face as he did. “It varies, depending on who you talk to. Some of them have been here for months, others have arrived more recently. We're accommodating them as much as we can, but Abyss has never exactly been the most wealthy of places, for obvious reasons.”

“How did they find out about Abyss?”

Yuri snickered to himself. “I haven't been idle these past five years. I've been keeping an eye on the progress of the war, and as much as I hate to admit it, the emperor has made strides in it. I knew it was going to cause hardships like this, especially after Cornelia took control of the Dukedom. With the way she runs it it's easy enough to tell that she cares little about what happens to the commonfolk, which is unusual for her considering she once helped the Kingdom recover from a plague twenty years ago.”

“You've been spreading the word?” Byleth guessed, though the same question had occurred to her as well.

“Quietly, but yes. Can't be too careful after all. This place is virtually unknown beyond the walls of Garreg Mach, and a good place for the people here to take shelter after they've been drained or robbed of their livelihoods. Some of them have adapted to life here, while others...” He motioned toward the people surrounding them. “Have only arrived more recently, and we're doing what we can to feed them.”

“Are the other Ashen Wolves here?”

Yuri didn't answer immediately, glancing down at the floor before refocusing on them. “One of them is. Hapi has been preparing meals for everyone with what food we do get. She's taken on quite a lot ever since refugees began arriving. You almost wouldn't recognize her.”

“And Constance?” Lysithea asked, expecting the worse. “What happened to her?”

Again, the man did not answer immediately, and she could see how troubled he was regarding the Nuvelle scion. “She's with the Imperial army.”

Both she and Byleth's eyes widened at the news. Of all the updates they could have received from him, that was one that they hoped to not hear.

“Why?!” Byleth asked, alarmed. She could see his mouth hanging open, unusual for him as he rarely ever expressed shock... for him anyway.

“According to her, she saw it as the best opportunity to restore her House if she could impress the emperor. After the battle five years ago, she seized on that opportunity and has been leading the forces in the former Kingdom ever since.” Yuri looked at the ground, disgruntled and clearly uneasy. As Lysithea looked around, some of the more permanent denizens of Abyss appeared to be reflecting the mood their leader was demonstrating, but she realized it was more of disdain.

“It makes sense when you think about it,” Lysithea commented, aware that it wasn't exactly what the denizens would have wanted to hear, but she wasn't worried about them. “What better way to restore her House then to prove her skills on the battlefield. If she's been successful this whole time, I would imagine Edelgard will have noticed by now.”

Byleth only glanced down at the floor. “Then she sided with Edelgard willingly...” His shoulders sunk at the knowledge. For a month now he had the benefit of knowing that the students he knew were being forced to fight for the emperor, so inlay the chance of perhaps turning them to the resistance and thereby avoiding the potential of killing them. For Constance to have joined Edelgard of her own volition meant that it was less likely for her to switch sides, especially with her overall goal being her foremost priority.

“And it's easy to see that her decision didn't bode well for the people who knew her here.”

Yuri looked around to see his people carrying worse expressions than his. When they noticed, they resumed what they were doing, hoping their leader hadn't seen them, but it was wishful thinking. “I can't say I blame her for making her decision. It was always her dream to restore Nuvelle, but I don't begrudge her for leaving. Others here... don't feel the same way, given what the war has done for some of them.”

“And I'm definitely not one of those people.” They were joined by another person this time, a woman who's voice Byleth and Lysithea recognized with how curt and rough it sounded. A tanned-skin woman with dark, red-orange hair approached them who, much like Yuri showed signs of what the past five years had done for her. Her hair was split down heavily to one side and the rest flowing down the back of her neck. She was wearing a thin, golden headband that complimented her new earrings. A dark cloak covered up most of her neck, and swayed side to side as she approached them. Her teal shirt was held tightly by an black, and outward corset that was accented by a wing-like skirt. Finally, her dark boots came all the way up to her thighs, and seemed to be designed for horseback riding, which made sense given the woman's affinity for it despite her location.

Lysithea was amazed at just how much Hapi seemed to matured since she last saw her. She looked far more like the sorceress that she was, and her outfit accentuated her body well. It was when noticed that that she realized that, while Hapi had not gained any height, she noticed the woman made gains elsewhere, and she was suddenly yet briefly stricken by a sense of inadequacy.

“Hello Hapi,” greeted Byleth with a faint smile, nodding at her as he did so. Hapi, for her part, remained blank at the warm welcome from her former professor. If Lysithea had to hazard a guess, Hapi was likely studying him, something the man quickly noticed. “What is it?”

“We heard you were back, but it's still hard to believe my own eyes, especially when I saw you get knocked off that cliff, Chatterbox.”

Lysithea noted that Byleth shifted slightly, probably wanting to say something, but decided against it.

“You look like you're doing well too, Snowball.” Lysithea held back a wince at the utterance of Hapi's nickname for her. She tried to insist back during the Academy for her to be called by her actual name, but that proved to be an unwinnable argument as Hapi had a tendency to do that to everyone. Once she realized she wasn't being singled-out she accepted it, though still wished it was something a little less demeaning.

“As do you, Hapi,” she replied, offering her faint smile to her. “You're new appearance really brings out the sorceress you always were.”

“This? It was Coco's idea before she... well, you know. Your dress is doing the same, Snowball, and you've grown a lot since we last saw each other. You're a lot taller than I remember.”

“Noticed that did you?” Lysithea smirked proudly. “It's done wonders to have people treat me more fairly then they ever did during the Academy.”

“That whole 'treating you like a child' thing? Yeah, never really understood that. You were a lot brighter than most of them could ever hope to be.”

Lysithea giggled at the flattery. Truth be told, she did like Hapi, and they were good friends. She was straightforward with her manner of speech, which she appreciated, though Lysithea noted that Hapi never seemed to carry the emotion of her name. There were times where the tan woman smiled, but more often Hapi never seemed to take joy out of what she did. Whether that was just her own behavior was originally her conclusion, but that was until she saw Hapi cast dark magic.

She had always wondered what happened with her that she was capable of doing such magic. Dark magic could only be used by those who either held great negative emotions, or, at least in her experience, suffered great trauma in their lives. Such was her case in the latter, and she assumed that Hapi may be similar, but the woman was never forward about what she went through. Lysithea could understand if that was the case, having to keep her own dark secret from others for fear of being either treated or seen any differently because of it. She hoped to one day learn Hapi's history, and in doing so she'd be willing to share her own, but that day had not come yet.

Just as Hapi was getting reacquainted with the two of them, Lysithea and Byleth looked past the two Wolves to see Hilda now returning to them, with the tall Balthus being dragged by the arm along with her, the man stumbling as he tried to keep up with an unamused Hilda, her lips pursed and her grip on him relatively tight.

He looked every bit a brawler as his self-proclaimed title gave credence too. His clothing didn't do much to hide the fact that the man was well-built underneath, though in his current case only the top portion of his pectorals were exposed. Both his boots and his gauntlets were on as though he were expecting to get into a fight at any point in time and was prepared for it should it occur. While his tan shirt and black pants weren't in any way impressive, the shirt eventually trailing down to coattails that wrapped around the back and sides of his waist, said waist was covered by a large, ovular belt.

What stood out the most was what was strapped to his back, the once forgotten Heroes' Relic, Vajra-Mushti. They kept the same coloration as any other Relic, but these were the only gauntlets of those variety, though you wouldn't be able to tell right away as the blade-shaped protrusions at the end of them could attest to. A punch wasn't so much a punch from them as more of impaling, especially when considering Balthus's already impressive strength.

“Hilda, ease up a little would ya'?” Balthus asked her, though it wasn't even a plea. He seemed to be enjoying himself as he was getting brought in, likely more impressed that Hilda had grown stronger herself over the years than the fact that he was being treated like a child who was being punished.

“No way, Baltie,” she replied, her tone matching her face. “We've kept everyone waiting long enough.”

“Guess the childhood friends got reacquainted huh?” remarked Hapi, giggling to herself at Balthus's “expense.” It was only a little longer before Hilda let Balthus go next to Yuri before retaking her position at Byleth's side, looking quite proud of herself for what she did.

“Your grip is a lot stronger than the last time I saw you,” he complimented, unfazed by his brief humiliation, and more impressed than anything. “Was Holst keeping you busy with training these past five years?”

“He tried to anyway,” Hilda admitted, “But with the war going on he's been pretty busy keeping an eye on the border. With the way Fódlan is right now he figures Almyra will think this would be the best time to attack us.” Hilda then suddenly nudged the professor, who didn't even flinch but raised an inquisitive brow regardless. “It's mostly Professor Byleth's fault for getting me to keep up with my training.”

“Speaking of which, how ya' been pal? Glad to see not even death can keep you down.”

“I don't know if I was dead,” Byleth answered with a shrug. “I think I was sleeping.”

“Sleeping?” Hapi replied, offended. “For five years? That's rich. We all saw you get blown off that cliff. No one sleeps for five years when there's a war going on, or was that all just too boring for you?”

“We don't know for certain what happened with him, Hapi,” said Lysithea, coming to his defense. “Yes he did disappear over the cliff, but we can't rightfully say he died either.”

“No offense, Snowball, but a person falling several meters down into a valley doesn't knock a person unconscious!”

“Take it easy, Hapi,” Balthus interjected, sympathetically putting a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him before closing hers, breathing carefully and avoiding sighing lest unwanted trouble came along. “You'll have to forgive her. Taking care of all the refugees has been hard on us. We aren't used to having this many people here.”

“Which brings us to why I summoned you here, professor,” said Yuri. “As you might have guessed, we've been down here these past years avoiding the majority of the war and watching over the refugees in the Church's stead. With the Knights of Seiros and the rest of the Church on the run from the Empire, they had nowhere else to go, which is why we brought them here.”

“So far the Empire hasn't seen given us any attention,” added Balthus. “Though if they did they'd have one hell of a fight on their hands.”

“More like the emperor just doesn't see us as important,” corrected Hapi. “She wants to conquer Fódlan, not enslave it.”

“And now that the Church has returned,” continued Yuri, making a hint of indication that he needed to speak. “We were wondering if it would be willing to help the refugees out.”

“You're only bringing this up now?” Lysithea asked in suspicion. “Why not do so after we returned?”

“As I've mentioned, I have eyes and ears throughout Fódlan, and part of that network is keeping an eye on threats to the monastery, and by extension Abyss. I knew about the encampment nearby for sometime now, and monitored it to make sure they didn't wander into the grounds, or anyone else that didn't ask nicely.”

“That explains why the monastery was empty,” Byleth noted, then he realized something dreadful. “Those bandits in the town...”

“They were not part of Abyss, don't worry. I never did anything to discourage them staying there; they were convenient to keep others out too.”

“So why wait until now to contact us?” Hilda asked.

“Powerful as the professor and all of you are, you are the underdogs in this war, a mouse versus a wyvern. I couldn't risk these people's lives on the chance that all of you were either slain or captured by in your first battle. Now that you've taken care of that problem, I'm more confident about your chances.”

The professor turned his attention to one group of refugees, then to another as he the the inner workings of his mind began to turn briefly before shaking his head. “We don't have the supplies to support them. We're rationing as much as we can right now as it is.”

“We're struggling too,” Hapi argued, frowning. “It's not easy to bring food down here when we have to wind our way through these tunnels. You guys stand a better chance of feeding them then we do.”

“And now that the Empire has backed off,” said Balthus. “I imagine it'll be easier for merchants to come around again.”

“The area around the monastery might be clear of Imperial soldiers,” countered Lysithea, crossing her arms as she did. “But we don't have any clear supply lines from the Alliance, not while Count Gloucester is still under threat of invasion. And I highly doubt the merchants from the Empire are willing to aid us.”

“I thought that might be the case,” Yuri coolly replied, smirking. “Which is why we and some of my people have been ambushing the Empire's supply lines for their food. We figured it was the best way for them to give back to the people who's lives they've trampled on.”

“You mean in the Dukedom?” asked an astonished Hilda, to which Yuri nodded in response. “That might explain why the Empire is stalemated with the Kingdom.”

“That, and the fact that the emperor lost interest in fighting the holdouts. She seems content to let the Dukedom finish the Kingdom off and is only offering tertiary support.”

“Which has to mean she's likely preparing to attack the Alliance...” murmured Lysithea, pinching her chin and knitting her brows in concern. “It was only matter of time, but nevertheless it's unsettling how good our timing is in forming our resistance.”

“It seems like you have everything figured out to aid these people yourself, Yuri,” noted Hilda, something that both Lysithea and Byleth nodded in agreement. “Why come to us to take that over? If the Empire doesn't see you as a threat, it doesn't make sense to suddenly put these people on the surface.”

“She has a point,” added Lysithea. “If they were to come to the surface it would only be putting them in harms way.”

“These people...” Yuri said as gazed at the crowd in the area, all seemingly minding their own business, but he could tell they were listening. “They shouldn't be here. This place is for those of us who were rejected by society; they belong up there with everyone else. They had their lives turned around because the Empire doesn't care about collateral damage.” Yuri stared into Byleth's stony eyes and gave him a sly smile. “Besides, it would look really bad for the new archbishop and the Church to turn away refugees when they needed help.”

Byleth and Hilda's eyes went wide, while Lysithea gave Yuri an appalled look. So that was what was really going on. It was low for even Yuri to bargain with the well-being of the refugees, but to guilt the professor into accepting them or face a hit on his reputation was just inconceivable. She knew Yuri to be Claude's equal when it came to schemes, and she reluctantly admitted that this was pretty devious of him. Perhaps Yuri could give the Alliance leader a run for his money when it came to cunning plans.

“You tricked us?!” Hilda exclaimed in shock.

“That's low, Yuri,” added Lysithea in disgust. “I don't think even Claude would stoop that low.”

“Is it really that awful?” he replied, flipping his hands up. “If the Church helps the refugees, they can spread the word that the Knights of Seiros have returned to take up arms against the Empire once again. I'm sure many people still hold to the faith, and after everything the Empire has done they're all looking for the Church to finally retaliate. Getting the support of the people would be a boon to your cause.”

Murmurs started to run through the crowd to a noticeable volume, and heads among it began turning toward each other and the six of them as Yuri laid out the rest of his idea. The possibility that they might be able to leave and rebuild their lives with the Church watching over them was enticing, and more and more Lysithea was seeing the writing on the wall. Despite how impractical it would be, they were entering a no-win situation. She was torn between her heart telling her to support them, and her brain saying how much more difficult it would be to survive with several more mouths to feed.

“They can also help to rebuild the town now that it's a smoking ruin,” said Balthus, proudly placing both his fists on his hips. “I know all these people are looking forward to getting back to the way things were before. And if they can do it knowing the Church is protecting them, all the better.”

“You wouldn't have to worry about feeding them,” assured Hapi. “We can send some of the food we get from the Empire toward all of you. It won't be banquet-sized, but it will at least keep them fed.”

As Lysithea opened her mouth to argue against giving them time to think it over, Byleth held up his hand for her to halt. He glanced towards her and gave her a knowing look, one filled with intent, and she knew that he had already thought it over. It sounded as though Yuri had everything all planned out for the refugees to be supported and to be protected, but regardless she felt a fair amount of indignation that they were never given time to think it over or offer any input. Yuri had already made the decision for them, and now she had to wonder what the professor was planning himself.

“Very well, Yuri,” Byleth acquiesced. “You appear to have the logistics taken care of. We will protect the refugees since you can provide for them.”

There were further whispers amongst the crowd, this time sounding more hopeful than before, perhaps the first time they felt it since they first arrived here. The Wolves seemed to be pleased by the professors decision, bearing smiles on their visages.

“I thought you'd see it my-”

“On one condition.”

Just as quickly as their smiles appear did they fade away. Both she and Hilda looked up at their professor to see just what it was he was planning now, only to see that he himself was bearing a warm smile. Yet somehow Lysithea did not feel comfortable at all seeing it, and she shook away the notion he was not so much planning, but plotting.

“I had a feeling it wasn't going to be that easy,” said Yuri, sighing and shaking his head at himself, though Lysithea could tell that was what he was expecting all along. “All right, what's the condition?”

“I want the three of you to join us in the war.”

The three of them blinked momentarily, wondering if that was really all there was to it, though notably Hapi was the only one that rolled her eyes at the request. Balthus only smirked in response at the professor, while Yuri looked less than thrilled at the prospect of once again having to enter battle on behalf of Byleth.

“Is that all there is, pal?” Balthus asked, laughing as he did. He stretched out his arms and grunted in confidence. “I would've joined even if that wasn't a condition. I do love me a good fight, and I think it's about time I properly introduced that Empire to the 'Fearsome King of Grappling' and make them pay for what they did to these people. That... and Hilda here probably wouldn't have taken no for an answer.”

“You got that right, Baltie,” replied the woman with that coy smile she always used to trick others into doing her work. She playfully stretched out her own arms as she shifted in place. “I don't know what Holst would say or do to you if I somehow got killed in battle and you had the chance to save me, but refused to join us to do so.”

Balthus winced as his brows knitted. “Geez, you really know how to guilt-trip a guy, you know that?”

“While it is a tempting offer, professor,” Yuri began, playing it cool as he usually did, though Lysithea could detect trace hints of hesitance as the rogue clenched the fingers of one of his hands together. “I'm not known for taking leaps of faith in my bargains. You've known me long enough to know that I don't play my hand unless I know I can win, and given the odds your resistance faces against the Empire, it's not a guaranteed winning deal for me. I can coordinate the delivery of the supplies we raid to the refugees, but you would need to make some real progress before I would consider joining you again.”

Lysithea gritted her teeth, but held her tongue for Professor Byleth's sake. Yuri was practically dumping the refugees off to them, appealing to the professor's sense of compassion alongside putting him a position that he couldn't outright refuse, lest he give himself, and by extension their resistance, a bad image.

“I know you care enough about these people to want to defend them, Yuri,” countered Byleth, calmly but with a voice loud enough for those around them to hear. “The knights can protect them, but the refugees look up to you. How would it look for you if you just left them to us without committing to their safety from the Empire? It sounds as if you're abandoning them. Were you only helping them because you had no choice?”

Yuri remained silent as his eyes went wide at the accusation. The whispers among the crowd grew again, but now their tone was more of suspicion directed at the man. If Yuri wanted to form words, they never materialized as he stood there flabbergasted, all while Byleth maintained that smile of his and the only reason Lysithea could deduce as to why it wasn't a smug one was because he was very good at masking it. Yet more evidence that Claude had rubbed off on him, only in this case she did enjoy seeing Yuri facing the karma of his deception.

Yuri at last shook his head and let out an amused grunt. “Well played, friend. What goes around comes around, as they say. After that display I can't rightly say no, can I? Fine then, I will join you in this. However I do have my duties to attend to down here, but I'll be up there when you need me.”

“Thank you, Yuri,” answered Byleth, able to relax now that his ploy paid off. He diverted his attention over to Hapi, who locked eyes with him the moment he did. “And how about you, Hapi?”

“Really one of those times where I wish I could sigh,” commented the warlock, closing her eyes in frustration, then opening them again. “I'll help you, Chatterbox, but I'll be doing this for them and you, not the Church.”

He nodded, very much aware of her history with the Church and how they did nothing to help her when she came to them for it.

“Thank you, Hapi,” Lysithea responded, a slight smile creasing her face. “And for the rest of you.” Her face contorted to anger as her brows furrowed and glared at Yuri. “Even if I do take issue with Yuri using refugees as a bargaining chip in this deal, and no input from us no less.”

“As much as you may disagree with my methods,” Yuri replied. “You have to admit my motive for doing so is benevolent. Battles aren't the only things that win wars. The support of the people is needed too.”

“Well it looks like I'll be the one finding something for the refugees to do too,” remarked Hilda, cupping her cheek and sighing. “With all these extra people available we can really begin to rebuild the monastery, and the town now too.”

“Hold on a sec,” interrupted Balthus, a bemused grin on his face. “That doesn't sound like the Hilda I know. When did this start?”

“Ever since the reunion,” replied Lysithea, a trace of pride in her voice. “With Claude handling most of the war planning, Hilda has been managing the logistics and rebuilding efforts. It's very impressive of her.”

“Stooop!” the Goneril girl answered back, the color of her face slowly beginning to match her hair. “Don't think that this means you can expect more from me! I'm just doing what I can for Claude since he has the worst of it, what with him strategizing, and having to deal with the politics back home.”

“Does Holst know about it?” the King of Brawling questioned with interest.

Hilda groaned and sagged her shoulders, unable to bear the idea of what might happen if her older brother found out what she was up to. “Please don't say anything to Holst. I'd never hear the end of it...”

“Now that our business is concluded,” Yuri called to attention to him. “There's a lot that will need to be done to prepare to move everyone to the surface. I'll get started with that now, and Hapi and Balthus can go with the three of you. Let everyone know what's about to happen so they can prepare too.”

Everyone but the professor nodded, and turned to make their way out. Despite the addition of the three remaining Ashen Wolves Lysithea felt unsure about what the resistance will be able to do with the refugees. It certainly felt good to be able to have a hand in protecting them and make their lives better, but there was still the problem of provisions and other necessities for them that was never spoken of. They would need blankets, some would need new clothes, and they would need to be temporarily housed in the monastery until spring arrived.

She decided she would aid Hilda, and more than likely Seteth, in that endeavor. Now that the area surrounding Garreg Mach was free of any immediate threat, she could focus more on activities outside of just being Professor Byleth's apprentice tactician. And there was certainly still plenty of day-to-day tasks that needed to be completed, but for now she focus on making sure the refugees would be as comfortable as possible at the monastery.

It was only a few seconds as the party was leaving did she realize they were one member short. Lysithea swiftly turned around to see the professor and Yuri talking about something, but she couldn't make out the words.

“Professor Byleth!” she called out, causing the two men to divert their attention to her. “Are you coming?”

“I'll be with you in a moment,” he answered. Lysithea cocked a brow at him, but only got a blank stare in response, arousing a mild amount of suspicion in the mage. Byleth realized his error and blinked at her. “It's a personal matter of mine. I can't say more.”

His words didn't do anything to dissolve her trepidation, but she supposed that was likely as much as she was going to get out of him.

“Then join up with us as soon as you're done,” she instructed, crossing her arms. “Having you there to explain what happened here will be easier for everyone to digest. I imagine there may be some who might disagree about this.”

He nodded, and not willing to push this “personal matter” he mentioned given her own desire to hide hers, she turned back around and follow the other three out down the bridge they came from.

Once Byleth was sure she was out of hearing range, he turned back toward Yuri, brows creased as he became serious for what another matter that was on his mind since he got the letter. “Is it still here?”

“You always had such a strange interest in it,” said Yuri, burying his face in his palm. “So I kept it around just in case. Consider it a favor.”

“Thank you.”

Yuri returned to facing him and raised a brow at him. He was none too pleased that his old professor still had such a burning desire for a banned tome. “You must have read it enough by now to know what it does right? Hell, even the name is indicative enough to know that.”

Byleth only furrowed his brows further. “It's for my peace of mind. I need to learn it, just in case.”

Yuri shook his head and sighed. As much as he wanted to dissuade the man from taking the tome again, he knew that look in his eye, the very same one that he used to insist that he go along with him on a mission he otherwise wanted to perform solo. “Suit yourself. This way.”

Yuri led Byleth past the bridge that led down to the Ashen Wolves' dormitory, leaving behind the somewhat excited chatter that was taking place among the refugees.

Inside the dorm room, Yuri bent down to reach underneath one of the pairs of bunk beds that sat on either side of the room, which was nowhere near as personalized as Byleth's room nor many of the other students for that matter.

“I know this isn't the best hiding spot coming from me,” remarked Yuri as his hand sifted for the tome in question. “But since no one else has an interest in it like yours, it didn't call for a more complex method.”

After a moment, Yuri brought out a worn tome and presented it to Byleth. The edges of the spine were worn away, and the cover was mostly white with silver patterns tracing around the cardinal edges until they came to a circle that encompassed an incomplete diamond, with a four-pointed start at as the northern point that looked as through it was traveling from the bottom of the diamond through a ring to reach the top.

“Here it is: Sacrifice. A tome that they threw down here long before even I was born. I hope you know what you're doing friend.”

Byleth took the worn book into his hands, staring intently at the center design. It had been something he had borrowed from the Shadow Library from his days as a professor, studying it to learn how to cast the namesake spell, practicing it with Yuri in an effort to keep the knowledge that he was learning such a dangerous spell hidden from everyone. They would object to it if they did, and he needed to learn this, for their sake.

He would not let his students, his saviors, die, no matter what.

* * *

Far away from the Ashen Wolves and the resistance now, there was one man who deceived everyone around him as he blended in with the crowd, so easy to do when they all wore similar clothing and no one questioned him at all about where he was from. Yuri and his minions were so busy tending to the needs of the rest of the refugees that he was welcomed as just another poor soul who lost everything he had. Now the disguise was gone as he made his way out from that hobble of castaways, noting the various clues that he memorized to a fault so that he could make his escape whenever necessary.

As he jogged to put as much distance between him and that wretched place, he smiled to himself. All these months of waiting and watching to finally put a knife in the Savage Mockingbird's throat never presented him a good opportunity to end the raids on the Empire's supplies on behalf of Her Majesty. The refugees would starve, but the emperor stated it was a necessity until the fighting at the border of the Dukedom and Kingdom was over. He never got that chance, but something just as vital to her had presented itself, if the Sword of the Creator on the green-haired man's belt was any indication.

“Her Majesty will want to hear about this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, I didn't originally intend for the chapter to be this long. My idea at the time was half this length, but as I write new ideas crop in and somehow I'm able to work them in here.  
I know I might have thrown off some people with just who it was that sent the letter at the end of the last chapter, but I only said I was debating as to whether or not I would include the Ashen Wolves, especially given that I had already started by the time Cindered Shadows released. Now they have rejoined, but only at full strength, and now Constance is for sure going to be an enemy to the resistance. When will she show up? Who knows!  
I also wanted to hide the identity of who sent the letter by using a little known tidbit that could be easily forgotten if someone wasn't paying full attention to the Yuri's supports and how he is sometimes called the "Savage Mockingbird" (hence the bird signature).  
Anywho, I'll be resting from this chapter before I move on to the next, which I am excited to do as it will involve a facet of this that I've always wanted to dabble in. I only hope I can execute it well (nervous sweatdrop).


End file.
